Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is dead cause people runnin out of to say
So and so absurd
I was almost at a loss for words, then I to serve
Off the of the Enemy's mind
Back in 2005 droppin hammers the time
Bring the ruckus from the booth to the
cause it ain't all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' vest on, we rain on
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 shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, just hard truth and rough
that gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure knowin the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the army as snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' school, promisin what?
Better recognize the bling of the machine
That's why it's meaning in the words we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that embed with the
Who the ones us all sellin death for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so what the
Interscope ah better hope we never and bringin the ruckus
Like Nas said, it's a parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz 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 long as they the black out
I grip my and blow your back out
We act out, cause you we reppin the cause
Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I check drawers for

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

Soul survivors, now tell me who can it liver
It's P.E., beatin the beast
In this game of latecomers, fake and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the
What'cha know about words I around
When I say it loud better that I'm black and I'm proud
(This is I mean, an Anti-Nigger Machine)
Take a look around and see the way they keepin the realest reachin
But I bet you hear it again, naw
Clear Channel heat it again
It never fit into the corporate of attack
They genocidal practices givin us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the lies of the homicide and while
life imitates what we 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 message
(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, make somebody
Like this devil up in really worship and pray
Like God speak to him and he does what he
But you know they steal the vote if anybody smart
The real sin is the dilemma when the people
the death penalty but abortion murder for sport
For the fake patri-OT, ain't no asked
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a menace that don't exist
Set up puppet governments, for the rich to get
money for them hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the close cause they say no money remain
Still undereducated, minimum wage
Got your Wal*Mart, new century slaves
Who's I can see, through the disguise
See, through the propaganda and lies
See a nation full of still simple and blind
So we 'em with the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

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