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 grab the mic and get down, like
Hide in Rome and to the masses, without
qualifies 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 your ass like the did that bitch
That got "Banned TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole head up
is the motion, weed comin' through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

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, I've been no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, it'll fuck you if you let her
come better than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better extended the and credda
of vendetta, a mellow beretta from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the soul of every rapper in me, me and hate me
My moms got by the industry and made me
I'm the illest nigga ever, I you
I get pussy than them dike bitches total
beef, nigga? Psh better dead that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he a killa", but I'm killin' myself
Smoke def, fuck bitches raw, on the kitchen
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, cocksuckers? We're
'Til the cops cuff us, gonna start ruckus and blockbusters
'Round the clock hustlers, you touch us
I'm gettin' wires wantin' me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it be somethin' I said?

Remember me? ("I don't give a fuck!")
Remember me? ("Yeah, you too!")
me? ("I'm low down 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 the fuckin' critics
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My baby's mom, made 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 a crazy mom
(Is she really on as much as you say she's on?)
Came home, and somebody broke in the back window
And stole two loaded machine and both of my trench coats
Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids,
With M-16's with ten each
And shits reach through six kids each
And gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
that! Psh you fagots can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, and a
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
you remember me?
me?
me?!
me?!