Luyện nghe bài hát Bring Da Pain

Basically, fuck with me

I came to bring the pain from the brain
Let's go inside my astral
Find out my mental's on instrumental
hey, so I can write monumental

Methods, I'm not the
But niggaz is I stick 'em for the cream
Check it, just how can shit get
as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it

In cross color, clothes you've crossed over
Then got totally krossed out and Kris
Who da boss? Niggaz get to the side
And I'm the side of the force

Of course it's the Method Man the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic and for the head piece protect it
it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus
Bustin' at me brush, now it

Styles, I gets wild
Method Man on some shit, niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin' mind now I got Swayze

Is it real son, is it really son?
Let me know it's son, if it's really real
Something I could son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw son, if it's really real

And when I was a stereo
(Stereo)
I listened to some
(Champion)
I always
(Wondered)
now I be the numba one?
(Tical! Hahaha)

Now you to de gargon
(Gargon!)
And de summary
And any man dat test me
(Test me)
Me gwanna lick out dem
(It's that)

Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the
The only way you is by the neck nigga poke
Off the set comin' to your
Take it as a threat, yet it's a promise

from a vet on some old Vietnam shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb
And it's gonna get even word to God
It's the Wu through sickin' niggaz for they garments

Movin' on your left, southpaw 'em the Meth
to represent and carve my name in your chest
You can come test realize no contest
Son, I'm the gun won that old Wild West

Quick on the draw with my hands on the
Nine three eleven the rugged rhymes galore
Check it 'cause I not when this hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof I'm drinkin' 90 proof

Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw, when you it to me aiy, give it to me raw
learned when you drink absolute straight it burns
Enough to give my chest a perm
I don't need a blow to pull a hoe
All I need is bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four
Word up we be car crashing, horn passing me
Northern spicy brown hoes
We have to you

Is it son, is it really real son?
Let me it's real son, if it's really real
Something I feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw son, if it's really real

I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your off
And make you kneel in staircase piss
I'll fuckin', cut your off
And feed you nuthin' but pills
You
So the hoe
(So)
the hoe