Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

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

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

Niggas catchin' "no" for an answer, no
Yeah, been told no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah it'll you if you let her
Better come better than 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 beretta from ghetto to gutter
Nope! Never leave a shredda
I got the soul of rapper in me, love me and hate me
My moms got by the industry and made me
I'm the nigga ever, I told you
I get more than them dike bitches total
Want beef, Psh better dead that shit
My should be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin'
Smoke def, bitches raw, on the kitchen floor
So think I'm a do to you, have done to you
Got niggas in my hood who'd do that for a bullet too
What you want to do, We're glockbusters
the cops cuff us, gonna start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires wantin' me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it be somethin' I said?

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