Luyện nghe bài hát Microphone Killa

[Intro - Freeway - talking - w/ ad
Woo! Free! Yeah, we in
Uh huh, get 'em

[Chorus - - w/ ad libs]
Who am I?
killa, microphone killa, microphone killa
Swifter than a breeze, I will cheese emcees

1 - Freeway]
Even I got a short temper, had a long day
I will kill a tall nigga a long K
Matter of fact I'm exactly the song say
Mic killa, best flow-er, "that's what all say"
Let me it to you, deliver the music to you
Raw and bake, I'm not puttin any on it
Back, I put the on it
East coast, head on my shoulders, put my on it
All day, take it off just to
I'm not a sleeper, if a nigga try to creep me put the heater to his
Yes, bullets penetrate
Tag him with the chrome, get blown reefer
He tried to flight, hit him right with the beam
I was a pre-teen been a microphone fiend
Had dreams to rock, then I signed The Roc
still Roc for life, Rhymesayers is the team, yeah

[Chorus - w/ ad

2 - Freeway]
Find 'em all, 'em up, pick 'em up
You say they got the sickest mouth, no doubt, grind 'em up, 'em out
one thing that they hate about me
I body emcees, send 'em back to they route
They say can do without, stay without
Never in doubt, if I'm without, I bring the lasers out
That's one that I hate about y'all
Whenever I floss, I always the haters out
to sling hard, bring the neighbors out
Now I throw yard parties, the neighbors out
out, one mic, one DJ, a couple guns
That's how we get it done, One, Freeway
Do this no delay, no doubt
bang my records in the house and on the E-way
How you I got the name Freeway? I move out
Listen, vision couldn't see me, yeah

[Chorus - w/ ad

[Verse 3 - Chris]
Microphone (Killa), no
Bomb like landmine, I ask shit, I demand mine
I a little bit and expand mine
killin 'em grandma
Chest out, head high, I'm a dead guy
I'm a shed light on all the lives I'm by
of successful legends and historical presence
As I started on Roc-A-Fella Records
A blessing in disguise, fools ain't messin with these guys
insult me, you messin with my pride
It'll cost you, dirty money off you
Pullin heat, bullets deep, Randy Moss you
It hard to, six feet deep is where they toss you
Detectives tell mommy they lost you
Tell 'em Free, no and kids
But we killin niggaz just we kill these motherfuckin bars too

[Chorus - w/ ad