Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is dead cause runnin out of shit to say
So and so absurd
I was almost at a loss for words, I started to serve
Off the line of the Enemy's
Back in droppin hammers without the time
Bring the from the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' vest on, we rain on
The News, anti-pop, original group
P and the Enemy the beast
we rise it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back vocals, no whack shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, just truth and rough raps
Plus that that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure knowin the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the as they're snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' school, promisin what?
Better recognize the of the murder machine
That's why meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that with the swords
Who the ones us all sellin death for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so the fuck?
Interscope ah better hope we never and bringin the ruckus
Nas said, it's a coon parade, yeah
Bitch goin out all day
We guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on Viacom
on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as sell the black out
I grip my shit and blow your out
We act out, you know we reppin the cause
Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I drawers for balls

Chuck D (singers)]
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Ridin with a soldier, hard truth in the game)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, ain't nobody colder we play)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Hard soldier, ridin with a soldier in the game)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Keep the rollin, can't nobody hold the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
It's P.E., still beatin the
In this of latecomers, fake friends and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we the stakes
What'cha know words I throw around
When I say it loud better that I'm black and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look around and see the way they keepin the realest from
But I bet you never it again, naw
Channel never heat it again
It never fit into the plan of attack
They genocidal practices givin us "Murder on Wax"
Keep us terrified, music
Back the of the homicide and smile while
life imitates what we make; all
makin off the African's fall, that's why I'm callin out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
we (Bumrush the Show) (The Enemy Strike Back)
With mo' than the music and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll the music in tact
that, bust back on they criminal ways
No in they action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to hurt us, make behave
Like this devil up in office really and pray
Like God to him and he does what he wants
But you know they steal the vote if gets smart
The real sin is the dilemma the people support
the death penalty but call murder for sport
For the fake patri-OT, ain't no questions
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a menace that even exist
Set up puppet governments, for the rich to get
More money for them hoods, but the in pain
When the schools close cause they say no remain
Still undereducated, makin minimum
Got Wal*Mart, makin new century slaves
crazy? I can see, through the disguise
See, the media's propaganda and lies
See a nation full of still simple and blind
So we burn 'em the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!