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 the X, you retarded?
'Cause I grab the mic and get down, syndrome
Hide in Rome and to the masses, without
Which me for the term "universal"
Without no rehearsal, colleague words is
I'm not, the one you want to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit ass like the train did that bitch
got "Banned From TV"
Heavyweight get up, you're whole head split up
Loco is the motion, weed through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

me? ("Throw ya guns in the air!")
me? ("Slam! Slam!")
Remember me? ("Nigga da fuck 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 fuck you if you let her
Better come than better to be a competitor
ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and deader
I better extended the and credda
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the soul of every rapper in me, me and hate me
My moms got raped by the industry and me
I'm the illest nigga ever, I you
I get more pussy than them dike bitches
Want beef, nigga? Psh 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, fuck bitches raw, on the floor
So what I'm a do to you, have done to you
Got niggas in my who'd do that shit for a bullet too
you want to do, cocksuckers? We're glockbusters
'Til the cuff us, gonna start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the clock hustlers, you cannot us
I'm gettin' wires wantin' me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it could be 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 when I die, I mean I go out to the club, stupid
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the critics
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Shady, you're on)
My baby's mom, bitch me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I thinkin' these crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she on as much dope as you say she's on?)
Came home, and must've broke in the back window
And stole two machine guns and both of my trench coats
Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids,
M-16's with ten clips each
And them shits through six kids each
And Slim gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix streets?
Fuck that! Psh you can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in with a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
you remember me?
me?
me?!
me?!