Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

Remember me? ("There executions")
me? ("I have no remorse")
me? ("I'm high, power!")
Remember me? ("I drop bombs Hiroshima")

For this, why it's the X, you
'Cause I the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in and to the masses, without boundaries
qualifies me for the term "universal"
Without no rehearsal, colleague words is
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
'Cause hit your ass like the train did that bitch
got "Banned From TV"
Heavyweight get up, you're whole head split up
is the motion, weed comin' through
Hollow in the lead, the .45 through

me? ("Throw ya guns in the air!")
me? ("Slam! Slam!")
Remember me? ("Nigga da fuck up!")
me? ("Chka-chka-Onyx!")

Niggas catchin' "no" for an answer, no
Yeah, I've been told no but more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, it'll fuck you if you let her
Better better than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta from ghetto to
Evidence? Nope! Never leave a
I got the soul of every rapper in me, me and hate me
My moms got raped by the and made me
I'm the illest nigga ever, I you
I get more pussy than them dike bitches
Want beef, nigga? Psh dead that shit
My should be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin' myself
Smoke def, fuck raw, on the kitchen floor
So what I'm a do to you, have done to you
Got niggas in my hood do that shit for a bullet too
What you to do, cocksuckers? We're glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the clock hustlers, you cannot us
I'm gettin' wires niggas wantin' me
my head, you think it could be somethin' I said?

Remember me? ("I don't give a fuck!")
me? ("Yeah, fuck you too!")
Remember me? ("I'm low and I'm shifty!")
me? ("I'm shady!")

When I go out, I'm a go out
I don't mean when I die, I mean I go out to the club, stupid
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the fuckin'
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My mom, bitch made me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I keep thinkin' crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she really on as dope as you say she's on?)
Came home, and somebody broke in the back window
And stole two loaded machine guns and both of my trench
Sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With M-16's ten clips each
And them shits reach through six each
And Slim gets blamed in Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, and a
Aftermath, Dre, the gat, show 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!