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?
'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
I'm not, the one you want to contest, see
'Cause I'll hit your ass the train did that bitch
That got "Banned TV"
Heavyweight get up, watch you're whole split up
Loco is the motion, weed through
Hollow tips in the lead, the .45

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 told no but it's more like
"No, no, no!!"
Life's a bitch, yeah fuck you if you let her
Better come than better to be a competitor
This ved is a head, the shit is all redder, you and deader
I better extended the cheddars and
Instead of vendetta, a mellow beretta ghetto to gutter
Evidence? Nope! Never a shredda
I got the soul of rapper in me, love me and hate me
My moms got raped by the and made me
I'm the illest ever, I told you
I get more pussy than dike bitches total
Want beef, nigga? Psh better that shit
My name be "Can't-Believe-That-Nigga-Said-That-Shit"
Probably say "he ain't a killa", but I'm killin'
Smoke def, fuck raw, on the kitchen floor
So think what I'm a do to you, have to you
Got niggas in my hood who'd do that shit for a too
What you want to do, cocksuckers? We're
'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 could be somethin' I

Remember me? ("I don't 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 when I die, I mean I go out to the club, stupid
I'm tryin' to clean up my image,
So I promised the 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, killed her and put on
I may be wrong, I keep thinkin' these thoughts
In my cranium, but I'm stuck a crazy mom
(Is she really on as much as you say she's on?)
Came home, and somebody must've broke in the window
And stole two loaded machine guns and of my trench coats
Sick sick of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen
With M-16's ten clips each
And shits reach through six kids each
And Slim blamed in Bill Clintin's speech to fix these streets?
Fuck that! Psh you fagots can to volcanic ash
And re-appear in hell a can of gas, and a match
Aftermath, Dre, the gat, show 'em where it's at
(Shot)
(What the fuck you at, nigga?)
you remember me?
me?
me?!
me?!