Luyện nghe bài hát You Should Know

Rock, rock, on
Rock, rock, on
I'm going to you the truth whether you like it or not
Can I it?
Yes
No days like those

Allow me to put some sense on you
Too much success, um, here comes doom
told you niggas the sky's the limit
Then they turn around and tell you that there's footprints on the
You rise to fame and die, so can say that you barely won
And they your masters, your kids become bastards
Having to ask executives for their records
like blind Melle, jelly son?
Look in my eyes, you can I'm violent
I might go diving inside a female on the Maldives island
I vow to never fail my phonics until I'm real
And you can me in a cell, I got it
I go to jail bout eight go "oh well" then post bail bout
I treat that bitch like it's a hotel, check in it check out it
Then tell my niggas, let the doubt it
These rap niggas bugged out divas
drugged out thugged out receivers
I them at their stash place, heat them
Then tell them they better drag race the away from me
Or get their mug like Bieber
I catch him at the bus while he reading
This .45 will give him the holler luck's got
I represent the must and whatnots
Niggas that used to cut class to touch cash and buck

You know
(But you don't really nothing)
You know
(Talk a lot of shit, motherfucking fronting)
You know
(So what you saying yo, keep playing niggas will burn)
You know
(Fuck the world)

or jail, clips inserted
A being born, same time a man is murdered
The and end
You on a block killer with your knife
Without a gun an option
Be cut out for the
Or they're gon play rock, paper, scissors wit life
I'm usually spiritual at night
Cause murder's in the air more like a pimping
Whipping bike, the American kryptonite
a scripted life
A different picket, type
Whoever fixing chicken rice, spend the night
In the morning go to my wife
she try and sell my shit
Ninety nine percent sure she gon try and smell my dick
Thirsty is praying the hell I slip
The baddest bitches, the last bitches you would've ever
Would've had chlamydia getting to cities
City after city paying cash for the love of ass and titties

You know
(But you don't really nothing)
You know
(Talk a lot of shit, stop fronting)
You should
(So what you saying yo, keep y'all niggas will burn)
You should
(Fuck the world)

(Pick it up)
I don't why y'all so highly regarded
You rhyme like you're borderline mildly
I you what my father done started
A rhyme on a god level, the artist
Y'all follow who target their audience
But not me, I target the artist, follow the
Holding a strap, pointing it at
And that's when I tell them like Kobe to
You and I'm tired of your jogging
Shoot at their feet till the dance
I'm going H.A.M. in the
Fuck you and your charts
And crowd participation
I'm putting a land under your stage
Had his place raining fan
And called that crowd precipitation
I'm more than my own DJ and Pac's brother
I came out of my momma's womb a box cutter
Lyrical spitting image mirrors the birth of Slim
None of these rappers can work with me, I work them

You know
(But you really want nothing)
You know
(Talk a lot of shit, motherfucking fronting)
You should
(So what you saying yo, keep y'all niggas will burn)
You know
(Fuck the world)

On the
You Detroit's own Dwele
Providing the
We
The Adrian Young
And on the wheels of
DJ

(I've seen, and I see it
I'm not the kind of person who here and say what you like)