Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is dead cause runnin out of shit to say
So and so absurd
I was at a loss for words, then I started to serve
Off the line of the Enemy's
Back in 2005 droppin hammers without the
the ruckus from the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I wish would
Get yo' vest on, we on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, group
P and the Enemy policin the
Until we rise never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, hard truth and rough raps
Plus that that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it no smilin
See the army as snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' high school, what?
Better the bling of the murder machine
That's why it's meaning in the when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all death for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so the fuck?
Interscope ah better we never knowin and bringin the ruckus
Like Nas said, a coon parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin guns on Tom to bomb on Viacom
on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as sell the black out
I grip my shit and blow your out
We act out, you know 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 with a soldier, hard truth in the game)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, nobody colder when we play)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Hard truth soldier, ridin with a in the game)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Keep the rollin, can't nobody hold the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now tell me who can bring it
It's P.E., still beatin the
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 plan of
They genocidal only givin us "Murder on Wax"
Keep us terrified, sterilized
Back the lies of the homicide and while
life imitates what we make; 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 and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll keep the in tact
Fuck that, bust back on criminal ways
No in they action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to us, make somebody behave
this devil up in office really worship and pray
Like God speak to him and he what he wants
But you know they steal the vote if anybody smart
The real sin is the dilemma when the support
the death penalty but call abortion for sport
For the fake patri-OT, no questions asked
'Specially, when the babies kill other for gas
Known to blast on a menace that even exist
Set up puppet governments, for the 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 Wal*Mart, makin new century slaves
Who's crazy? I can see, through the
See, the media's propaganda and lies
See a nation full of sheep simple and blind
So we burn 'em with the that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!