Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't that a bitch, I somebody think
Rap is cause people runnin out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was almost at a loss for words, then I to serve
Off the line of the Enemy's
in 2005 droppin hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus from the booth to the
cause it ain't all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' on, we rain on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, original
P and the policin the beast
Until we it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no glory
No tracks, just hard truth and rough raps
Plus that gear that keep 'em the crime
Makin sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it ain't no
See the army as they're snatchin us up,
At yo' high school, what?
Better recognize the of the murder machine
That's why it's meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to
Who the whores that with the swords
Who the pimp us all sellin death for Murder Dog
The is dead-ly so what the fuck?
ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the ruckus
Like Nas said, it's a coon parade,
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on
It's on, long as needed we keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as they the black out
I grip my shit and blow back out
We act out, cause you we reppin the cause
Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I check drawers for

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

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
P.E., still beatin the beast
In game of latecomers, fake friends and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we the stakes
What'cha know about I throw around
I say it loud better know 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
Clear Channel never heat it
It never fit into the corporate of attack
They genocidal only givin us "Murder on Wax"
Keep us terrified, sterilized
the lies of the homicide and smile while
life what we make; they all
makin money off the fall, that's why I'm callin out

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

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!