Luyện nghe bài hát Manslaughter

Code name E D, check on the one, two,
male hard MC
Rap record slave, a brother on the
a machine gun and one magazine

Wanted, a half a million for the body
Two for the microphone
If you see him, five dash slayer
A hot line to the governor and

He's with ammo, a weapon that's mine
All in rap, strap tech nine
Silencer clipped, the rip on the sneak tip
The about ta flip

They call him

Code MD, rappin' fanatic, rappin' fanatic
No short taken, black
Hit man, keeps my belt
Book a look on my grill with no signs of a
Or laughter, my name ain't Casper the Friendly Ghost

But I smoke an MC if I to
Quick fast Alakazoo, Alakazam
And I'll be damned, 'cause my rhymes like Bam Bam
Rubble, partner name is E Double

It's those hazel green eyes that keep my man in
Girls the tip, brothers on his sac
I had to change my to Bruce Wayne also known as Batman
And grab the bozack this hand
As I ya manslaughter

They him manslaughter

Mad man fully strapped and I
flex, last chump who did, he got smoked
Undercover, not D T but E D
And wonder why you're spinning my on thirty three

I'm the original, did crime, I'm no criminal
No static, pack a forty automatic
Black cat strapped in rap, my Johnson
Walking the streets, a Charles Bronson

As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1
sharper than the blade in Shogun
First disrupt the brain of a sucker MC
can't count one, two, three

I manage to damage, I roast the whole membrane
a base head doing cocaine
I kill a farmer plus his
'Cause I'm the E Double and is manslaughter

call us manslaughter
They call it

As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only
To a hardcore gangsta, train of thought
You're out, you're beat down, you go big top shit
Run your trunk jewels or get pistol

'Cause I'm too swift to or miss a stitch on my rap hit
Sleep on a sucker and you still get with
Me bro, with this and I don't know Judo
Gun flow is my style, say this so that you

no time to dance or romance with a nuisance
Play ya a puppet to put some lead in ya pants
off you go to the rap rat pack
Be stripped of mic, punk on your head we stamped bozack

That's what the ordered
Take two of these, dead,

They call it
They call it

To the farmer and his