Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is cause people runnin out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was at a loss for words, then I started to serve
Off the line of the mind
Back in 2005 hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus from the booth to the
cause it ain't all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' on, we rain on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, original
P and the policin the beast
Until we rise never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no focus
No gimmick tracks, hard truth and rough raps
Plus that gear that 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the army as they're us up, yeah
At yo' high school, promisin
Better recognize the bling of the machine
That's why meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all sellin for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so what the
Interscope ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the
Like Nas said, a coon parade, yeah
niggaz goin out all day
We guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on Viacom
It's on, long as needed we keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as sell the black out
I grip my shit and blow your out
We act out, cause you know we reppin the
Still a (Rebel) never a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

Chuck D (singers)]
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Ridin a soldier, hard truth soldiers in the game)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, nobody colder when we play)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Hard truth soldier, ridin with a in the game)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, can't nobody the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now tell me who can it liver
It's P.E., beatin the beast
In this of latecomers, fake friends and flakes
And grown men like teenagers, we raisin the stakes
What'cha know about words I around
When I say it loud better know that I'm and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look and see the way they keepin the realest from reachin
But I bet you hear it again, naw
Clear Channel never it again
It never fit into the corporate plan of
They genocidal practices only us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the lies of the homicide and while
imitates what we make; they all
makin money off the African's fall, that's why I'm out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Enemy Back)
With mo' than the music and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll keep the in tact
Fuck that, bust back on they ways
No in they action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to hurt us, somebody behave
Like this up in office really worship and pray
Like God speak to him and he does he wants
But you know they steal the vote if anybody smart
The real sin is the when the people support
the death penalty but call murder for sport
For the patri-OT, ain't no questions asked
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a menace don't even exist
Set up puppet governments, for the to get richer
money for them hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the schools close cause they say no remain
Still undereducated, makin wage
Got your Wal*Mart, makin new century
crazy? I can see, through the disguise
See, the media's propaganda and lies
See a full of sheep still simple and blind
So we burn 'em with the sermon designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it to make it hardcore! [x2]