Luyện nghe bài hát The Punisher

Kill him

Try to identify the man in of ya
But it the role, the gear or the money, the
Swift intellectionist plenty ya
Bite, if its dark Ill spark one of ya
I throw a mic in the its a question
I got the answer it directions
Go a mask show me after
A of a master that has to make musical massacre

Attack your wack till its
Youll hold the mic again, try to hand it back
'Cuz every rapper that I cut off his thumbs
Put a to his neck if he swallows it hums
Slice from ear to ear so can hear better
Before he bleed to death here, every letter
And you can see quick and the blood can get

If you try to the style or the subject
As I get deep in the rhyme Im a
Emcee before Im done, Im a
Prepare the the tortures comin up
Trip through the mind at the end find
Its the

Kill em

I hold the mic as hostage, emcees are
Rhymesll punish em 'cuz they undertsand em
I heat up his brain, then explain I hand him
A redhot microphone thats how I em
Rhymes information unite midnight
Like a putting bullet wounds in the mic
If ya curse me, it aint no
Give him a autopsy, by a verse of me

I took a kid and cut off his
him slow so he could see what I did
And if he dont understand I said
Im pushing his eyeballs way to the back of his
So he can see what hes getting
A part of the mind that he been through
A is coming 'cuz ya getting sent to
A place harder to but its all in the mental

I ran a scan to locate his game plan
When Im through with his brain he the same, man
Did he lose his mind or lost in his
But this the lost and found because ya cant find
Your foundation coasting, your is
Drifting, in motion frozen

like another murder at the Mardi grass, B
Too to send out a search party
Once ya out of ya head ya cant get back
I give em a map, but he get trapped, so
Prepare the chamber, the tortures up
Trip through the mind, at the end youll its the punisher

em again

Dangerous rhymes performed like
Cuts so deep youll be bleeding
My intellect wrecks and disconnects your cortex
Your is next
conscience becomes sub-conscious
Soon your is nonsense

The last words are blurred then slurred
your verbs are no longer heard
You get lung fried so good youre tongue-tied
He couldnt swing or so he hung till he died
Reincarnate him and kill him again and again gain and again
I leave him in the so you can see him

I got a dead M Cing
When I create em, I cremate em and em
You cant em theres no ultamatum
Mics lay around full of ashes the victims name in slashes
Got a long and Im a get every one of ya
Beware of the

Then Im a em again
Wake em up em again