Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

For this, why it's the X, you
I grab the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in and to the masses, without boundaries
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 train did that
That got "Banned TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole split up
is the motion, weed comin' through
Hollow 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, it'll fuck you if you let her
Better come better than better to be a
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a beretta from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the soul of every in me, love me and hate me
My got raped by the industry and made me
I'm the nigga ever, I told you
I get more pussy them dike bitches 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, fuck raw, on the kitchen floor
So think what I'm a do to you, have to you
Got in my hood who'd do that shit for a bullet too
What you to do, cocksuckers? We're glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, gonna start ruckus and blockbusters
'Round the clock hustlers, you cannot us
I'm gettin' wires niggas me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it be somethin' I said?

me? ("I just don't give a fuck!")
Remember me? ("Yeah, 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 clean up my image,
So I the fuckin' critics
I wouldn't say "fuckin'" for six
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My baby's mom, bitch made me an angry
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 really on as much dope as you say on?)
home, and somebody must've broke in the back window
And stole two loaded machine and both of my trench coats
Sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With M-16's with ten clips
And them reach through six kids each
And gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you fagots can to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!