Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

For this, why it's the X, you
'Cause I grab the mic and get down, like
in Rome and to the masses, without boundaries
Which me for the term "universal"
Without no rehearsal, colleague words is
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
'Cause hit your ass like the train did that bitch
That got "Banned TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're head split up
Loco is the motion, weed through
Hollow in the lead, the .45 through

me? ("Throw ya guns in the air!")
me? ("Slam! Slam!")
Remember me? ("Nigga da fuck up!")
me? ("Chka-chka-Onyx!")

Niggas "no" for an answer, ghetto no
Yeah, I've been told no but it's like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah it'll you if you let her
Better better than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and
I better extended the and credda
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta from ghetto to
Evidence? Nope! Never 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 dike total
Want beef, nigga? Psh better dead 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 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? We're
'Til the cops cuff us, start ruckus and drop blockbusters
'Round the hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' niggas wantin' me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it be somethin' 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 mean when I go out to the club,
I'm tryin' to clean up my image,
So I promised the critics
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My baby's mom, bitch made me an blond
So I made me a song, her and put Haley on
I may be wrong, I thinkin' these crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm with a crazy mom
(Is she really on as much dope as you say on?)
home, and somebody must've broke in the back window
And stole two loaded machine guns and both of my coats
Sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With with ten clips each
And them reach through six kids each
And Slim gets in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you can vanish to volcanic ash
And in hell with a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, show 'em where at
(Shot)
(What the you starin' at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!