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 and so absurd
I was almost at a for words, then I started to serve
Off the of the Enemy's mind
Back in droppin hammers without the time
the ruckus from the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I they would
Get yo' vest on, we on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, group
P and the Enemy the beast
Until we it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, just hard truth and raps
Plus gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the as they're snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' high school, 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 embed the swords
Who the pimp us all sellin 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 goin out all day
We pullin guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on
It's on, as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as as they sell the black out
I my shit and blow your back out
We act out, cause you 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, truth soldiers in the game)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, nobody colder when we play)
it takes to make 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 bring it
It's P.E., still beatin the
In game of latecomers, fake friends and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the
know about words I throw around
When I say it loud better know that I'm and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look around and see the way they the realest from reachin
But I bet you hear it again, naw
Channel never heat it again
It never fit into the plan of attack
They genocidal practices only us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the of the homicide and smile while
life what we make; they all
makin money off the African's fall, that's why I'm out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Strike Back)
With mo' than the music and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll the music in tact
Fuck that, bust on they criminal ways
No compassion in they for the son of a slave
Now the church used to us, make somebody behave
Like devil up in office really worship 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 abortion murder for sport
For the fake patri-OT, ain't no asked
'Specially, when the babies kill other for gas
Known to on a menace that don't even exist
Set up puppet governments, for the to get richer
More money for hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the close cause they say no money remain
Still undereducated, makin wage
Got Wal*Mart, makin new century slaves
crazy? I can see, through the disguise
See, through the media's propaganda and
See a nation full of sheep still and blind
So we burn 'em with the sermon that's with a rhyme, we do it

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