Luyện nghe bài hát We Made It Freestyle

We it
We it

The devil, the haters, the bloggers, the papers, the labels, labeled me
But they can't relate to our struggle, my nigga, we up from slavery
Apologies go out to all of my fans cause they so patiently
This one is for all of the and forgotten black angels that prayed for me
A milli, a milli, love me cause I'm ill
The greatest story ever told, in the field
From to Sambo to Django, it's fact
I'm the of rap and I get it from the wheel
The son of WD, who around in the D
Who ran in the three
The gods raised me
all on the Sphinx
Story all in the wall of the
Niggas know the Black God me
You can blow the off, that won't change it
won't heal all that anguish
We came a long way from the bottom of the
All to the Mahdi, we found our language
Gold necklace, middle finger
God tribe of Shabazz on the record
sons of Muhammad, wildin' in the wreckage
Asha du illah is the message
All these niggas, I got to one
All these devils, I got to strike
All these rebels waitin' on the war cry
Mama said: "son, you got to drum"
Roc Nation,
Motivation,
Nigga we it from slaves on a slaveship
from the cotton fields, straight to the spaceship

Hop off the ship
Poppin' my chain, and it to Jacob, I got it gold plated
Walked in that bitch like "Nigga we it!"
I own my own masters, you I ain't missin' no royalty statements
I can't be rated, damn Hov on them haters
Sorry Mrs. for so much art talk
me rappin' 'bout shit that I really bought
While these rappers rap about guns ain't shot
And a of other silly shit that they ain't got
I'm on my Nyong'o
Stuntin' on stage, got the 12 A Slave
This Ace of Spades look an Oscar
Black tux, like a mobster
Don't make me rra yah, nigga watch tone
I come to with black boxers on
Y'all hella of my melatonin
I could out at any given moment
I'm God, G is the seventh letter
So when my arms and feet shackled I get paid
All due
I'm ready to chase the back into caves
These are the days, but do I seem fazed?
Showed up to the last supper in some new J's
I'm the true and livin', of Hov
New religion, 8th of the world, alien, superstition
You're blind,
Blind to the fact of who you are
My bloodline's
Kings and queens and Michael Jordan
I go stupido,
The flow is filthy, can't kill me
I've inoculated from the snakes and the fakes
The corny handshakes, sucker we made it