Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

Remember me? ("There executions")
Remember me? ("I no remorse")
me? ("I'm high, power!")
Remember me? ("I bombs like 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
Which qualifies me for the "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, watch you're whole split up
Loco is the motion, weed 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 "no" for an answer, ghetto no
Yeah, I've been no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah it'll you if you let her
Better come better better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you and deader
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a mellow from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never leave a
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 illest nigga ever, I you
I get more pussy than them dike total
beef, nigga? Psh better dead that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin' myself
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 shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, gonna start and drop blockbusters
the clock hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires wantin' me dead
my head, you think it could be somethin' I said?

Remember me? ("I just don't 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 when I go out to the club,
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the fuckin'
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Shady, you're on)
My baby's mom, made me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put 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 must've broke in the back window
And stole two loaded guns and both of my trench coats
Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids,
With M-16's with ten clips
And them shits reach through six each
And Slim gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix streets?
Fuck that! Psh you fagots can to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, and a
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, show 'em where at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!