Luyện nghe bài hát Real Shit

It's the paragraph
The wild style
the god Rakim, the master
Feel

(1st verse)
This is lost ass track off-the-rack kind of a track
You forced to rap, remember It's that
You where I'm at, there go the gat
Pass me a bat, the kill-or-be-killed kind of
Steamin' ___, speedin' the map
Negotiating with a chick, she got her head on your lap, ya on your gat
Premeditated plan of attack, two of your most deadliest mens in the back
Comb the block, stop in the that's hot
Get out you own the spot, home or not
It's no mood to play, move out the my way
Yo, I been this tune from throughout the day
Hey, yo, this is that ol' niggas don't wanna battle
Turn it up make the whole block rattle
boom- this one is gettin' blazin' hot
Boom boom- you bust another shot from the Glock

(Chorus)
From the below to everything above
To the heart pumps Ra-kim Allah's blood
I I kick a hole in your speaker and pull the plug
You emcee's is playing tug-a-war your tongues
From the beneath my feet to the sun
I'm number one and competition is still
And I'm keep kicking holes in your speakers and pullin' plugs
You emcee's is playing with your tongues

(2nd verse)
Here we now
Turntable like a merry-go-round
slow down, depending on how good your stereo sounds
Set it, up in the hood where we go
Tearin' through towns, 'em into burial grounds
This is the that made Theodore wanna scratch
The that caused the firs