Luyện nghe bài hát Wishin II

Yo, the voice of the signing off
Salvador, a connoisseur, a hot
Rachmaninoff, livin' not by the law
And I'm a product of Rakim God Allah
Forensic files, leaving 'em disemboweled, '87
They slimmer than reverend Al or Kevin Liles
Some are vile, still be peddlin' vials
Off of eleven mile, wishin' you would
You prolly better
The side of to who they rising in prominence
My crown's taller than of The Ottomans
Wiser than Solomon, mobilizing the
They try and me the Nobel prize for novelists
Peace to that rock MAC knowledge knowledges
astrologists, illegal anesthesiologists, yo
El elefante, Bella
Keep a ready to give 'em hell if PRhyme say

Yo, traumatic stress, I wear it as a family crest
I murder at its best, words that'll causing cardiac arrest
Budapest to Marrakesh, my Bangladesh
My gang's Clarence X, I'm after death, the last Levine X
Lettin' every other rapper know they better wear a
I'm pulling in two hundred thousand for
I wrote a song about it, it is, yo
The creature search a preacher teacher torch
Capture, rupture, rapture, her, the preacher
He defeat ya, speak the ether, sneak then ya
Say no to meet ya, can't nobody get with me
suits from Italy, chill, humility what I'm all about, ability, yo
I wish a nigga would the hostility though
You know how boys from Philly be
I'm like cyanide, through the ear ducts
And I got a mouth, tell 'em kids earmuffs
When I was at school, I was who to steer of
Smoking a reefer in the bathroom, sipping
When it came for the pictures in the yearbook
I was up in class like an American
Years later, yo I'm an hero verse evil like
Deerhoof, if I let the woof
don't recognize me when I'm shopping up in Berdgdorf
They just know I'm flier the motherfucking airport
Therefore say I'm a sartorial gear whore, yeah

Uh, on the tailor suits
You artists throwing on the radio like they made you you
I'm looking for on stage to throw tomatoes to
The way I act you think I'm banned from radio, like Trae Tha
I don't care, nigga, I'm getting in
I see [? ], I'm saying N
I'on, I'on, give a fuck, any DJ anywhere
I'on, I'on give 'em as a triple dare, tie him to a swivel chair
I'on give 'em spins, ha ha, I'on give 'em greens and count
Ask around by them niggas that'll leave you
With a concert full of fans and bloody merch
Smoking dope that's ille- that's the perp
You might wanna study
Every verse lyrical but first
verb and every word is like a speeding bullet
'Bout to chop body in half while it's on the way to heaven
Like Kid Cudi shirt, shit could be a hit but it's be money first
I rap with a sickness card, Iraq pulling private, shh

Chris, I think I got the curse