Luyện nghe bài hát D.O.A. Remix

[Layzie
Na, Na, Na, Na... Hey, Hey, Hey... Bye!

Bone]
Whooo! C'mon, Thug, We gon' do it like this, yeah... Kray Jackson...

Remember the killa, the lyrical beast? I'm murda ya!
Up in you a hernia.
You suck, I'm confirmin' ya, nigga!
If you did it, nigga, clearly we talkin' about you!
Get off the
Nigga, quit on dicks and get your brand accurate.
Kray the man, ask 'em!
need a hand.
Rappin' insane with the same average, above!
Nigga, no love,
You is artificial, insufficient, not an issue.
Our position is monumental, all shit was accidental!
Simple, be no fool!
be consumed in auto-tune. (Auto-tune!)
'Cause it's a deadly storm blowin' here soon.
Originators can survive it if they stay and innovate.
Imitators, fakers, all die

Y'all simply all rap and it ain't no time to play.
hours a day, that's seven straight!
My killers be rallied up, the scrilla - they up.
Like - I exercise you.
Like - I victimize you.
you for using auto-tune.
Recognize here comes doom.
There's no room for the wack. be givin' a black eye to the game.
But there's more than a thousand ways to get 'em and leave the strangled.
Flesh on 'em and I never did let up.
you hoes!
Opponents they keep back on the ropes, their faces hit the floor.
Suckers ain't nothin' but jokes their vocals made artificially.
I'd rather buck 'em exposed, now they gotta get disposed.
My temp is burning hot, while these phony's, they hardly not!
We can lock on up and see how hard of a hit you got!

[Layzie
Na, Na, Na, Na... Hey, Hey, Hey... Bye!... Bye Bye!... Bye Bye!
Why want to sound like, dress like, act like? (Bone, Bone, Bone, Bone, Bone)
Why they want to look like, dress like, sound
(It's the Ruggish!) It's the critical, criminal, non-subliminal.
Set it off, let it off, is visible.
I battle, I challenge, I my syllables.
Sound Bone, that's dispicable.
put you in I.C.U. I see you is not original.
It's pitiful, ain't lyrical.
me that deal, give me that miracle!
They the talent, they lackin' the balance, they lackin' the harmony.
niggas pretenders, no contenders, it ain't hard to see.
No authenticity, they make history.
They only Lil Lay-Lay mad, they going out like they J.J. Fad.
Now how do these assume they can use the auto-tune,
because the bass go boom I spend my dollars, consume?
But naw, I bring these to their doom.
Better wake up! up! Wake up!
We back innovation.
We a celebration, cause Flesh-n-Bone is home.
Been ten years strong, domination.
Never no nomination 'cause homie the streets respect it.
We keepin' it epic and never it we get it in on a record.
I'm talkin' about keepin' it classic, talkin' about keepin' it plastic.
They puttin' the game in a casket. We gonna on like the Jacksons.
I'm sorry I'm endin' your cycle, I gotta do for Michael.
You heard from Jay-Z, but nigga this Layzie, somethin' I'm willin' to die for

Yeah... Come on! Come On! On!
Na, Na, Na, Na... Hey, Hey, Hey... Bye!

Bone]
Come here nigga, you what?...

off let me take it back to High School.
You niggas teach rules, in a rented crib.
To this day I wear Jordan's.
Wasn't the first nigga with in High School
(?) ass nigga, put out (Put that out!)
in everybody's category.
Cut out, (Cut that out!) Flat out! (Flat out!)
a damn shame, for spare change, what come out these fraudelent rappers' mouth.
Or I say entertainers, I'm complainin'.
North, East, West, and South, cut out.
'em all Pac and no slouch. (Get it! Get it! Get it!)
If you can't sing, then sing!
The realest they place and they did it.
We auto-tune so you need to sense this (Bone! Bone! Bone!).
Rest and hood living. (lifted?)
They feel me resonate it. Get realest.
Quiet me, (Naw!) I'mma hood, harmonied out.

[Bizzy
Invisible cut the Crucifix, into the galaxy!
Show you how loose I get - No! No fatalities!
Zeus, I'm comin' to the mix. Operation: Totality
Opium flow I go, auto-tune to the Matrixes.
myself in Cali, woke up without no witnesses.
Satan, she my mistresses.
Mohammad, where my is?
wicked as witches is
Yeah! Nigga peanuts!
I'm T-Pain, back my Nazarinians and we nuts!
These Palestinians 3 buck shots!
When Roger Troutman caught his back from Hades like Cain - took him out!
say "Get out man."
Give me my third eye and I'll pitch it to the masters.
the back of the dollar, but why?
Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

[Layzie
Na, Na, Na, Na... Hey, Hey, Hey... Bye!