Luyện nghe bài hát The Hitman

Call me the hitman, it's hard, ain't it?
What most feared to in the game, we became it
So I a masterpiece of an industry tainted
It's not a lip of grass, so it's graphic, it
The hitman, say it again, the
The hitman, uh, say it again, say, say it

people say I'm extreme, broadcast a beam live through a meme
Screaming as Iovine, as corrupt as Don King
into the ghetto, so be champ with the bling
Industry's the arena, the is the ring
You train audible Queens, to sling to fiends?
Then Def Jam, supreme team, the same
Except critical now, it's digital cocaine
The goal to control individual brain
Like, for contracts in the sixties
Now it's rap 'til you sixty, for 360
The trick, switch the with the three sixes
Artists are left with zero, you know who the riches
Which is the reason why there's only a few
Globally, the pioneers are left in a
Enough to make the go postal
Watching these old folks get for they vocals

If you are not performing for radio rotation
What's the for radio play at your station?
If not paying to play, the record is dead
a whole new spin on radio head/Radiohead
They got a thousand plays a and we selling the same units (uh)
Put they best rep up, they couldn't next to it (woo)
People relate, they wanna connect to it
Here's a lyrical check, is this enough for you to flex to it,
Or do you need clues?
I be more black? Will that change your view?
Should I die my hair blonde? Should my be blue? (come on)
Just a couple of I mustered up for you (uh)
But these and half shoes, you can't fill those
I made head lines/headlines like pillows
And get banned from television and marketing
Targeting music politics, provoking it

The hit (*gunshot*), man, it's hard
Let's release sex tapes, so we can become
photographs of titties and asses
Increase our buzz, the masses (uh)
I thought she was supposed to be so
Now you just another ass in the air an asterisk
Cell songs, you will never be classic
You sold your soul, they call that
B, why it have to be so drastic?
Chemical skin peel, the song more plastic
Follow the man, stick to the clap-tics
Twelve to eighteen, you the demographics
These kids popcorn, they want slapstick
Probably the chorus tisket, tasket
But I'm not to risk it and mask it (come on)
This might take a of listens for you to grasp it
The hit (*gunshot, drops*)