Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't that a bitch, I somebody think
Rap is dead cause people out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was almost at a for words, then I started to serve
Off the of the Enemy's mind
Back in 2005 hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I wish they
Get yo' on, we rain on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, group
P and the Enemy policin the
Until we rise it'll be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no glory
No gimmick tracks, just hard and rough raps
Plus that gear that 'em fearin the crime
sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the army as they're snatchin us up,
At yo' high school, promisin
Better the bling of the murder machine
That's why it's in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all death for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so what the
Interscope ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the
Nas said, it's a coon parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin guns on Uncle Tom to on Viacom
It's on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as as they sell the black out
I grip my shit and blow your out
We act out, cause you know we reppin the
Still a (Rebel) never a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

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

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

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Strike Back)
mo' game than the music and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll the music in tact
Fuck that, bust back on 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 really worship and pray
God speak 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 abortion for sport
For the patri-OT, ain't no questions asked
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a menace that even exist
Set up governments, for the rich to get richer
More money for hoods, but the hood's in pain
the schools close cause they say no money remain
Still undereducated, makin wage
Got your Wal*Mart, makin new century
crazy? I can see, through the disguise
See, the media's propaganda and lies
See a nation of sheep still simple and blind
So we burn 'em with the sermon designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to it hardcore! [x2]