Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't that a bitch, I heard think
Rap is dead cause people runnin out of to say
So and so absurd
I was at a loss for words, then I started to serve
Off the line of the mind
Back in 2005 droppin without the time
Bring the ruckus 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, original
P and the Enemy the beast
Until we rise it'll be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no focus
No gimmick tracks, hard truth and rough raps
Plus that gear that 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the army as they're us up, yeah
At yo' school, promisin what?
Better the bling of the murder machine
That's why meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that embed with the
Who the ones pimp us all sellin death for Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so the fuck?
Interscope ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the
Like Nas said, a coon parade, yeah
niggaz goin out all day
We guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on Viacom
on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as as they sell the black out
I grip my shit and your back out
We act out, cause you know we the cause
Still a (Rebel) needin a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

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

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
P.E., still beatin the beast
In this game of latecomers, fake and flakes
And grown men actin teenagers, we raisin the stakes
What'cha know words I throw around
When I say it loud better know I'm black and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look and see the way they keepin the realest from reachin
But I bet you hear it again, naw
Clear never heat it again
It never fit into the plan of attack
They genocidal practices givin us "Murder on Wax"
Keep us terrified, music
Back the lies of the homicide and 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)
we (Bumrush the Show) (The Enemy Strike Back)
With mo' game than the music and our attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll keep the in tact
that, bust back on they criminal ways
No in they action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to hurt us, make somebody
Like this devil up in office worship and pray
Like God to him and he does what he wants
But you they steal the vote if anybody gets smart
The real sin is the dilemma when the people
the death penalty but call abortion murder for
For the patri-OT, ain't no questions asked
'Specially, when the babies each other for gas
Known to on a menace that don't even exist
Set up governments, for the rich to get richer
money for them hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the schools close they say no money remain
Still undereducated, minimum 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 the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

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