Luyện nghe bài hát The Ringer

Yo
Yo, I'm just gonna write
my thoughts
and see where takes me.
'Cause I feel like I wanna punch the
in the face right now

Let me just how to make greatness
Straight out the gate, I'm 'bout to break you
no mistakes allowed, but make no mistake I'm 'bout
To rape the alphabet, I may raise some
If I press the issue just to get the out (blllt)
magazine could take Staples out
Savage but ain't thinking 'bout no bank
But bitch I'm off the like Taylor Brown

Motherfucker, shut the fuck up I'm talkin', lil' bitch
I'm sorry, wait, your talent? Oh, critiquin'
My Oh, bitch I don't know who the fuck y'all are
To a sub-par bar
Even have an opinion if you, you me
of views, attention the news
I you, lose-lose for me, win-win for you
Billions of views, your ten are two
Skim through the music to a shit reviews
To get clicks, but bitch, you just lit the
Don't get misconstrued, as us'
renewed, so get shit to do
Or get dissed 'cause I just don't get what the fuck half the shit is that you're t-to
Do you have any idea how much I hate this flow
Everyone copies Probably no
Get this fuckin' audio out my Audi, yo,
I can see why people like Lil Yachty, but not me
Not even dissin', it just for me
All I am simply is an emcee
"Stan" just isn't your cup of tea
Maybe your full of syrup and lean
Maybe I need to up shit,
preferably the world up if it were up to me
Paul wants me to chill, y'all me to ill
I eat a pill, probably I will
Old me kill the new me, watch him bleed to
I breathe on the mirror, I don't see my
Possibly I'm dead, I must be
Like an spell, I'm E-V-I-L (evil, but spelled)

Jam a white strip in the tip of my dick with an ice pick
Stick it in a vice grip, it on a spike fence
Bang it with a pipe
While I take my ballsack and it like a light switch
Like vice-president Mike
Back up on my shit in a as I lay it on a spike strip

These are things that I'd rather do than you on a mic
Since nine-tenths of rhyme is about ice and
Jesus Christ man, how many times is gonna fuck on my bitch? (Fuck my side chick!)
You never see Em icy, but as cold as I get on the M-I-C
I shit so the Thames might freeze
And your skull might split like I bashed you it
Bitch I got the club on like a nightstick (yeah)

Turn for what? I ain't loud enough
Nah, turn the up
'Cause I don't know how I'm gonna get your to shut now
When it matter what caliber I spit at
I'll bet a hundred bucks
you'll turn around and just be like
"Man, how the fuck sourpuss get mad
just 'cause his album
and now he to take it out on us?"
(ooh)
But week,
an ex-fan mailed me a copy of The Mathers LP to me to study
It'll help me get to myself and she'll love me (ooh)
I mailed the back and said if I did that
I'd be like everyone else in the fucking industry
Especially an effing clone of me

So finger-bang, chicken wang, MGK, 'zae
Lil Pump, Lil Xan Lil Wayne
I should aim at in the game, pick a name
I'm fed up with humble
And rumor is I'm
I'm you heard bumblings
I heard you rumble like an empty stomach
I heard mumbling but it's jumbled in mumbo-jumbo

The era that I'm from pummel you
what it's comin' to
What the fuck are you do, where you runnin' to?
I'm gonna crumble you and I'll a number two
And on you if you ain't Joyner
If you ain't Kendrick or
Or Sean you're a goner
I'm 'bout to it to anyone in this bitch who want it

I guess when you walk BK, you expect a Whopper
You can order a pounder when you go to McDonald's
But if lookin' to get a porterhouse you better go get Revival

But y'all are acting like I tried to serve you up a
Maybe the vocals should have been auto-tuned and you would bought it
But sayin' I no longer got it 'cause you missed the line and caught it
it went over your head, because you're too stupid to get it
'Cause you're retarded but pretend to be the smartest
With your expertise and knowledge, but you'll be an artist
And I'm harder on myself than you could ever be,
What I'll never be is flawless, all I'll ever be is
Even when I'm gone gonna say I brought it
Even I hit my forties like a fuckin' alcoholic
With a bottle of malt liquor
But I couldn't this shit any longer
The that I know that I'ma hit my bottom if I don't
Pull myself from the jaws of

And rise to my
I don't see why y'all even with me
I get
My die
I don't ceasefire till at all are deceased
I'm eastside, be caught slippin'
Now you see why I sleep
Not even a wink, I don't
I don't doze off, I don't even nod to the
I don't even my fuckin' eyes when I sneeze

"Aw, man!
That BET cypher was weak, it was
The Thing ain't even
Oh my God, a reach"
to all my colorblind people
Each and every one of
If you a fire engine green, aquamarine
Or you think is pink
"Dawg, a date"
"Looks like an to me"
"Look, an apple"
"No it's not, a peach!"

So finger-bang, Pootie Tang, Burger King, Gucci
Charlamagne gonna anyway
matter what I say
Give me of the Day
a way for 2018 to get underway
But I'm gonna say that I wanna say

to the slaughterhouse, bitch! (yeah)
Invite them in a one a day
I'm not (preach)
I feel like the beast of burden
That line in the sand, was it worth it?
the way I see people turnin'
Is makin' it seem
It's startin' to defeat the
I'm watchin' my fan base to thirds
And I was just trying to do the thing, but word
Has the court of public opinion a verdict
Or still yet to be
'Cause I'm determined to be me, the worship
But if I go back, I'd at least reword it
And say I empathize with the people this evil serpent sold the dream to that deserted
But I think workin'
These verses are makin' him a wee bit
And he's too scared to me with words
'Cause he that he will lyrically get murdered

But I at least he's heard it
'Cause Agent Orange sent the Secret Service
To meet in
To see if I really think of him
Or ask if I'm to terrorists
I said, "Only when it to ink and lyricists"

But my beef is media journalists
(Hold up, hold up, up)
I said my is more meaty, a journalist
They can get a of flesh
And yes, I mean a penis
'Cause been panning my album to death
So I been the media fingers
Don't wanna turn this to a sesh
But they been puttin' me the ringer
So I ain't shit out with the press
But I just took beat to the cleaners