Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

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

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

Niggas "no" for an answer, ghetto no
Yeah, I've been no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah fuck you if you let her
Better come better than to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you and deader
I better extended the and credda
Instead of vendetta, a mellow from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! leave a shredda
I got the of every rapper in me, love me and hate me
My moms got raped by the industry and me
I'm the illest nigga ever, I you
I get more pussy than dike bitches total
Want beef, nigga? Psh dead that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin'
def, fuck bitches raw, on the kitchen floor
So what I'm a do to you, have done to you
Got in my hood who'd do that shit for a bullet too
What you to do, cocksuckers? We're glockbusters
'Til the cuff us, gonna start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' niggas wantin' me dead
my head, you think it could be somethin' I said?

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

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