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 it's the X, you
'Cause I the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in Rome and to the masses, boundaries
Which qualifies me for the "universal"
Without no rehearsal, words is controversial
I'm not, the one you want to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass like the train did that
got "Banned From TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch whole head split up
is the motion, weed 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 catchin' "no" for an answer, no
Yeah, been told no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah it'll you if you let her
Better come better than to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better the cheddars and credda
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta ghetto to gutter
Nope! Never leave a shredda
I got the soul of every rapper in me, love me and me
My got raped by the industry and made me
I'm the nigga ever, I told you
I get more pussy than them dike bitches
Want beef, nigga? Psh better dead that
My should be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he a killa", but I'm killin' myself
def, fuck bitches raw, on the kitchen floor
So think what I'm a do to you, done to you
Got in my hood who'd do that shit for a bullet too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? glockbusters
'Til the cops cuff us, start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires 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!")
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 to clean up my fuckin' image,
So I the fuckin' critics
I wouldn't say "fuckin'" for six
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My baby's mom, made me an angry blond
So I made me a song, her and put Haley on
I may be wrong, I keep thinkin' these crazy
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she really on as much as you say she's on?)
Came home, and must've broke in the back window
And stole two loaded guns and both of my trench coats
Sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
M-16's with ten clips each
And them shits reach through six kids
And Slim gets in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
that! Psh you fagots can vanish to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, and a
Aftermath, Dre, the gat, show 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!