Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

Remember me? ("There executions")
me? ("I have no remorse")
me? ("I'm high, power!")
Remember me? ("I drop bombs Hiroshima")

For this, why it's the X, you
'Cause I the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in and to the masses, without boundaries
Which qualifies me for the "universal"
no rehearsal, colleague words is controversial
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass the train did that bitch
got "Banned From TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole head up
is the motion, weed comin' through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

me? ("Throw ya guns in the air!")
me? ("Slam! Slam!")
Remember me? ("Nigga back da up!")
me? ("Chka-chka-Onyx!")

Niggas "no" for an answer, ghetto no
Yeah, I've been told no but more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah it'll you if you let her
Better come than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the is all redder, you deader and deader
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a mellow from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the of every rapper in me, love me and hate me
My moms got raped by the and made me
I'm the nigga ever, I told you
I get more pussy than dike bitches total
Want beef, nigga? Psh better that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin'
Smoke def, fuck bitches raw, on the floor
So think what I'm a do to you, done to you
Got niggas in my hood who'd do shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? We're
'Til the cops cuff us, start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires niggas me dead
my head, you think it could be somethin' I said?

Remember me? ("I don't give a fuck!")
me? ("Yeah, fuck you too!")
Remember me? ("I'm low and I'm shifty!")
me? ("I'm shady!")

When I go out, I'm a go out
I mean when I die, I mean when I go out to the club, stupid
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I the fuckin' critics
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My baby's mom, bitch me an angry blond
So I made me a song, her and put Haley on
I may be wrong, I keep thinkin' these thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she really on as much dope as you say on?)
Came home, and somebody broke in the back window
And stole two loaded machine guns and both of my trench
Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids,
With M-16's ten clips each
And them shits through six kids each
And Slim blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, and a
Aftermath, Dre, the gat, show 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!