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 and to the masses, without boundaries
Which qualifies me for the "universal"
no rehearsal, colleague words is controversial
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass like the did that bitch
got "Banned From TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole split up
Loco is the motion, weed comin'
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 catchin' "no" for an answer, no
Yeah, I've been told no but it's more
"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 and deader
I extended the cheddars and credda
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta from ghetto to
Evidence? Nope! leave a shredda
I got the of every rapper in me, love me and hate me
My got raped by the industry and made me
I'm the nigga ever, I told you
I get more pussy than them bitches total
Want beef, Psh better dead that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm 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 who'd do that shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? We're
the cops cuff us, gonna 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 just 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 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 say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Shady, you're on)
My baby's mom, bitch me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I thinkin' these crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck a crazy mom
(Is she on as much dope as you say she's on?)
Came home, and somebody must've broke in the back
And stole two machine guns and both of my trench coats
Sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With with ten clips each
And them shits reach through six kids
And Slim gets blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix streets?
Fuck that! Psh you can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in with a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, show 'em it's at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
you remember me?
me?
me?!
me?!