Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

For this, why the X, you retarded?
'Cause I the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in Rome and to the masses, without
qualifies me for the term "universal"
Without no rehearsal, colleague is controversial
I'm not, the one you want to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass like the train did bitch
That got "Banned TV"
get up, watch you're whole head split up
Loco is the motion, weed through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

Remember me? ("Throw ya 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 told no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
a bitch, yeah it'll fuck you if you let her
Better better than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the is all redder, you deader and deader
I better extended the cheddars and
of vendetta, a mellow beretta from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the soul of rapper in me, love me and hate me
My got raped by the industry and made me
I'm the illest ever, I told you
I get pussy than them dike bitches total
beef, nigga? Psh better dead that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he a killa", but I'm killin' myself
Smoke def, fuck raw, on the kitchen floor
So think what I'm a do to you, done to you
Got niggas in my hood who'd do shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, gonna start and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires niggas me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it could be I said?

Remember me? ("I just don't 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 when I die, I when I go out to the club, stupid
I'm to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the fuckin'
I wouldn't say "fuckin'" for six
(Six minutes, Shady, you're on)
My baby's mom, bitch made me an 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 a crazy mom
(Is she really on as much as you say she's on?)
home, and somebody must've broke in the back window
And two loaded machine guns and both of my trench coats
sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With M-16's with ten clips
And them shits reach through six kids
And Slim gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix streets?
Fuck that! Psh you fagots can vanish to 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 fuck you at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!