Luyện nghe bài hát To The Listeners

It's to the
to the listeners
It's to the
to the listeners

It's to the
It's to the
It's to the
It's to the

It's to the listeners, for those that have a ear for
of the art, engineered for the mix
Eardrums are playing to what I'm sayin you're singin a song
Stevie Blass on the keyboard, along
But you have to dance, play it cool and listen
My DJ's mixin, and do the quizzin
Cause who is number one if not best better
Here's a hint the letter
The is sportable, microphone is portable
For any immortal man, swords is not
Never take a loss cause I'm to beat
I ain't cheap but sell me a dream I don't sleep
I'm Paid in Full, so the bull
This ain't a stick up, you have to wave until
You feel Sure, and you want more then wipe your
I just wanted to see how hype you could get
Cause when I came in the door steppin hard enough to the floor
I just but the others can't make no more
out of beats breaks and out of time
If I was gone, you'd be out of rhymes
I improve, record don't have to be
If it's and the story is strong
You can speak out and hold the as prisoners
The people is peepless, to the listeners

I'm the Lord, for somethin you can
Try and control and be cautious but the cut's in a
Make me deeper than down, I the crowd, crowd around
People are peepless, the soloist found
Phrases, thoughts, made by the R of
One thing I do is keep em different, and far yours
You keep talkin, when will all the damage be
You say you're rulin but I'm in the place you don't come
Maybe waitin, to see what I'm makin
One more style gets taken, then be breakin
If the patterns are causes, is soft
But make it hard for you to start, I left off
You find yourself, till the point is
You hit reverse to rewind it, that's you hit the pause
I set the scene, first you mixin
Then the fiend's in effect, still listenin?
Pay close attention, never before
up I got a brand new invention
Made a musician it's notes are played crisp
But listeners listen to what I on a disc
Copywritten but still bitten they almost like
Almost pumpin, but it ain't like
A record's to sound, watch as it go around
are broken, smashed into the ground
That ain't My Melody, brothers keep up and tellin me
Others are trying to smooth and steadily
Potholes are left in my then I crash and bruise
Whoever refuse and right past em
Cause I left to do it for easy whatever
Death, till I get back you better in step
After speaking you'll stare, if I was there description is
Letters full of poetical medicine, this is for the