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 more like those

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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