Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't that a bitch, I heard somebody
Rap is dead cause people 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 mind
Back in 2005 hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus the booth to the hood
Motherfucker it ain't all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' on, we rain on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, group
P and the Enemy policin the
Until we rise it'll be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no focus
No gimmick tracks, just hard truth and raps
that gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure knowin the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the army as snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' high school, promisin
Better the bling of the murder machine
why it's meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores that embed with the
Who the ones us all sellin death for Murder Dog
The is dead-ly so what the fuck?
Interscope ah better hope we knowin and bringin the ruckus
Nas said, it's a coon parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin on Uncle 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 they sell the out
I grip my and blow your back out
We act out, cause you we reppin the cause
Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I check for balls

Chuck D (singers)]
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Ridin with a soldier, truth soldiers in the game)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, ain't colder when we play)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Hard soldier, ridin with a soldier in the game)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, nobody hold the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now tell me who can bring it
It's P.E., still beatin the
In game of latecomers, fake friends and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the
know about words I throw around
When I say it loud better know 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 never heat it again
It never fit into the corporate of attack
genocidal practices only givin us "Murder on Wax"
Keep us terrified, music
Back the of the homicide and smile while
life imitates we make; they all
makin money off the African's fall, why I'm callin out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
we (Bumrush the Show) (The Enemy Strike Back)
With mo' game than the music and our message
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll keep the music in
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
Like this devil up in office really worship and
God speak to him and he does what he wants
But you know they steal the if anybody gets smart
The sin is the dilemma when the people support
the death penalty but call murder for sport
For the patri-OT, ain't no questions asked
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a menace don't even exist
Set up governments, for the rich to get richer
More money for hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the schools close cause say no money remain
Still undereducated, makin wage
Got your Wal*Mart, makin new slaves
crazy? I can see, through the disguise
See, through the propaganda and lies
See a nation full of sheep simple and blind
So we burn 'em with the sermon that's with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!