Luyện nghe bài hát On Fire

Yeah, ya Critics man
Critics got nothin' nice to say, man
You know the one thing I notice critics, man?
Is critics ask me how my day went
Well, I'mma 'em

my dog died, I hog tied a ho, tied her in a bow
Said next time you up try to spit a flow
You wanna criticize dog try a mo'
I'm so tired of I could blow, fire in the hole
I'm up so fire up the lighter and the 'dro
hold on a little tighter here I go

Flows tighter, hot headed as rider
Cold as spiderman throwin' a spider in the snow
So ya better get to blowin in flow
of a low rider with no tires in the hole
Why am I like this? Why is winter
Why is it when I talk, I'm so to the hoes?

Listen dog, Christmas is off, this is as as it gets
This isn't gob this is a in the salt
Those are wounds this is the salt, so get lost
dissin' me is just like pissin' off the wizard of oz
Wrap a lizard in gauze, beat you in the with it
the scissors and saws

And cut out your gizzards and balls
Throw you in the middle of the ocean in the with jaws
So sip piss like sizzurp a straw
Then describe how it tasted like to us all
Got the gall to Chris piss in his draws
Ticklin' him go to his grave, him and visit his dog

You're on
That's how ya know your on a
'Cause when you hot it's like your burnin' up everyone else's
Your on
Man, I'm so fuckin' sick, I got ambulances pullin' me over and

on fire
Ya need to stop and roll 'cause when you say the shit
To give the hip hop shop the blow
You're on fire, yeah, on fire

I just wrote a bullshit hook in two long ass verses
If you mistook the for a song,
This ain't a song it's a warnin' to Brooke and David Cook
That the just took over so book

Run as fast as you can, stop writin' and it
I'm lightning in a skillet, your a fuckin' in a pan
I pop up you bitches scatter hot grease splashin' a fan
Mr is the man

Yeah, I'm pissed but I would rather take energy
And it in a can, come back and whip your ass with it again
Salivas sulfuric acid in your hand it'll eat through
metal the ass of iron man

Turn him into plastic so for you to
That you could a fuckin' chance is assanine
Yeah, ask the man, hit a blind man with a coloring book
And told him color inside the or get hit widda fine crayon

Fuck it I ain't playin', up in a van and hop out
At a homeless man holdin' a sayin'
Vietnam vet, I'm out my mind, man
Kick the can beat his ass and leave him 9 grand

So if I a little mean to you
This ain't savage you ain't seen the brew
You wanna get graphic we can go the route
You make a belemic puke
On a piece of fuckin' and peanut boo

Sayin' you sick, quit playin' you prick don't care
Then why the am I yellin' at air
I ain't even talkin' to no one ain't nobody there
Nobody fuckin' test me 'cause these hos won't even dare

I'm punchlines but I got so many to spare
I thought of another one that might go here
Naw, don't it save it, psycho, yeah
you gotta rewrite those lines that you said about Michael's hair

You're on
That's how ya your on a roll
'Cause you hot it's like your burnin' up everyone else's cold
on fire
Man, I'm so hot my firetrucks on fire, homie

You're on
Ya need to stop drop and 'cause when you say the shit
To the whole hip hop shop the blow
You're on fire, yeah, your on
You're on