Luyện nghe bài hát The Punisher

Kill him

Try to the man in front of ya
But it the role, the gear or the money, the
Swift intellectionist with ya
Bite, if its Ill spark every one of ya
I throw a mic in the its a question
I got the it includes directions
Go manufacture a mask show me
A glass of a master that has to musical massacre

Attack your wack its handicapped
Youll never hold the mic again, try to hand it
'Cuz every rapper that I cut off his thumbs
Put a record to his neck if he 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 Im becomin a
Emcee before Im done, Im a
Prepare the chamber the comin up
Trip the mind at the end youll 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 then I hand him
A microphone thats how I planned em
Rhymes information unite midnight
Like a putting bullet wounds in the mic
If ya me, it aint no mercy
Give him a autopsy, killed by a 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 way to the back of his head
So he can see hes getting into
A of the mind that he never been through
A journey is coming 'cuz ya sent to
A harder to find but its all in the mental

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

like another murder at the Mardi grass, B
Too late to send out a 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 the mind, at the end youll find its the punisher

Kill em

rhymes performed like surgery
Cuts so deep youll be bleeding
My wrecks and disconnects your cerebral cortex
Your cerebellum is
Your conscience sub-conscious
Soon response is nonsense

The last words are blurred then slurred
Then your verbs are no 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 again and again gain and
I leave him in the so you can see him

I got a dead M museum
I create em, I cremate em and complicate em
You save em theres no ultamatum
Mics lay full of ashes with the victims name in slashes
Got a long list and Im a get one of ya
Beware of the

Then Im a em again
Wake em up em again