Luyện nghe bài hát Remember Me

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

For this, why the X, you retarded?
I grab the mic and get down, like syndrome
Hide in Rome and to the masses, boundaries
Which me for the term "universal"
no rehearsal, colleague words is controversial
Like I'm not, the one you to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass the train did that bitch
That got "Banned TV"
get up, watch you're whole 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 back da up!")
me? ("Chka-chka-Onyx!")

Niggas "no" for an answer, ghetto no
Yeah, I've been no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
a bitch, yeah it'll fuck you if you let her
Better come than better to be a competitor
ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you deader and deader
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a beretta from ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! leave a shredda
I got the soul of every rapper in me, 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 dike bitches total
Want beef, nigga? Psh better dead that
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin'
def, fuck bitches raw, on the kitchen floor
So think what I'm a do to you, done to you
Got niggas in my 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
the clock hustlers, you cannot touch us
I'm gettin' wires niggas me dead
Wantin' my head, you think it be somethin' I said?

me? ("I just don't give 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 mean when I die, I mean when I go out to the club, stupid
I'm tryin' to up my fuckin' image,
So I promised the fuckin'
I say "fuckin'" for six minutes
(Six minutes, Slim Shady, on)
My mom, bitch made me an angry blond
So I made me a song, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I keep these crazy thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck with a mom
(Is she really on as much dope as you say on?)
Came home, and somebody must've broke in the back
And two loaded machine guns and both of my trench coats
Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids,
With M-16's 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 with a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, show 'em where at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
Don't you me?
me?
me?!
me?!