Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is cause people runnin out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was almost at a for words, then I started to serve
Off the of the Enemy's mind
Back in droppin hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I wish they
Get yo' vest on, we rain on
The News, anti-pop, original group
P and the Enemy the beast
we rise it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back vocals, no whack shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, just hard truth and rough
Plus gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it ain't no
See the army as snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' high school, promisin
recognize 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 embed with the swords
Who the ones us all sellin death for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so what the
Interscope ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the
Like Nas said, it's a parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin guns on Uncle Tom to on Viacom
It's on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as they the black out
I grip my and blow your back out
We act out, cause you know we the cause
Still a (Rebel) never a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

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

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
It's P.E., still beatin the
In this game of latecomers, friends and flakes
And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the
What'cha know about I throw 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 the realest from reachin
But I bet you hear it again, naw
Clear Channel never it again
It never fit into the plan of attack
They genocidal only givin us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the of the homicide and smile while
life what we make; they all
makin money off the African's fall, that's why I'm out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Strike Back)
With mo' game than the music and our attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll the music in tact
Fuck that, back on they criminal ways
No compassion in they for the son of a slave
Now the church used to hurt us, make somebody
Like this devil up in really worship and pray
Like God speak to him and he does what he
But you they steal the vote if anybody gets smart
The real sin is the dilemma when the people
the death penalty but call abortion murder for
For the fake patri-OT, ain't no questions
'Specially, the babies kill each other for gas
Known to blast on a that don't even exist
Set up governments, for the rich to get richer
money for them hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the schools close cause they say no money
Still undereducated, makin minimum
Got your Wal*Mart, makin new slaves
Who's crazy? I can see, through the
See, through the media's propaganda and
See a nation full of sheep still simple and
So we burn 'em with the sermon that's designed a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!