Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

Remember me? ("There executions")
Remember me? ("I no remorse")
me? ("I'm high, power!")
Remember me? ("I drop bombs Hiroshima")

For this, why the X, you retarded?
'Cause I the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in Rome and to the masses, boundaries
Which qualifies me for the "universal"
no rehearsal, colleague words is controversial
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
I'll hit your ass like the train did that bitch
That got "Banned TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole split up
is the motion, weed comin' through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

me? ("Throw ya guns in the air!")
me? ("Slam! Slam!")
Remember me? ("Nigga back da up!")
me? ("Chka-chka-Onyx!")

Niggas catchin' "no" for an answer, no
Yeah, I've been told no but more like
"No, no, no!!"
a bitch, yeah it'll fuck you if you let her
Better better than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better extended the and credda
Instead of vendetta, a beretta from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! leave a shredda
I got the of every rapper in me, love me and hate me
My got raped by the industry and made me
I'm the illest nigga ever, I you
I get more pussy than dike bitches total
Want beef, nigga? Psh dead that shit
My should be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he a killa", but I'm killin' myself
Smoke def, fuck bitches raw, on the floor
So think I'm a do to you, have done to you
Got niggas in my who'd do that shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the clock hustlers, you cannot us
I'm gettin' niggas wantin' me dead
my head, you think it could be somethin' I said?

Remember me? ("I just give a fuck!")
me? ("Yeah, fuck you too!")
Remember me? ("I'm low and I'm shifty!")
me? ("I'm shady!")

When I go out, I'm a go out
I don't mean when I die, I when I go out to the club, stupid
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the critics
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Shady, you're on)
My mom, bitch made me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I keep these crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she really on as much dope as you say on?)
Came home, and somebody must've in the back window
And stole two loaded guns and both of my trench coats
Sick sick dreams of scenes, two kids, sixteen
With M-16's ten clips each
And shits reach through six kids each
And Slim gets blamed in Bill speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you fagots can to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, the gat, show 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
you remember me?
me?
me?!
me?!