Luyện nghe bài hát Beasts From The East

(Mr.Cheeks)
Yo we come through like balls, see us takin two pulls and pass
nigga watch your back you talk out your ass
I pack a .380 in my for protection
deranged, the world is acting crazed
I never thought I'd it, it was hectic when I scrambled
on point like a I'm living life as a gamble
in the rotten apple, yo where every corner is rotten
to all my niggas in peace, see you gone but not forgotten
now my main wifey, dead as chicks,
official Lost Boyz the year of '86
and fuck these crooked niggas I could kill 'em with a
at I feel like slashing in Jamaican Queens fashion
you think you can fuck around, but kid you thinking
it's over when I'm sober, when I'm drinking
without blinking man, tear your crew like pages
I rip you the backyard, and (?) in stages

(A+)
A plus the lyrically superb one, spittin
from the top of the tongue to burn ya ear
shit, make the opposite team call time out
knockin three times my size out
the crowd loves me, so when I ain't around ask for me
I buckle up to kick rap a crash dummy
for the money, I get up in that ass money
the fact you tryin' to me kinda bugs me
I leave crews fed up, like handicap tryin' to get up
emcees get wet up with gun pellets,
I blow up the spot when time to rock
I speak out - my peak out at a hundred watts
who wanna cipher, I get
to my mother, the Father, the Holy Ghost and Rev Run
when the set it down, I'm inna service
to cop the kind of verses average emcees will worship

(Redman)
My style is milk of magnesia, clutch the 5-speed and
the more the merrier, secure the area, my la
is ultimate we don't jack cars
we jack for carriers
I bounce trampolines, when I be blowing the fiends to pieces
hymn em like sewing machines and
when the shadows of the pointing out my boy' Camarro
I get punished like pharaoh for
You're better off singing Christmas carols for
because I'm on point bow and arrow equipment
the of chicken head conventions
I give you a Ku Klux lynchin'
I got a from the stress, success, not wearing a vest
511 for being dirty, quarts of
yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call
she swallowing a nine piece
forgot the warranty on false
I return like on 18 inch Pirelli's
assault and battery like my says Eveready
as machetes
matter of fact I slap the (?)

(Canibus)
brings the sickest drama
fierce enough to pierce the armor
I smack who try to suck dick through the condom
playing the mic is something I won't do
my concern when I approach you, is to roast you
I smoke you and you standing close to
and make every man in your crew deny he knows you
defeating niggas like Segal,
putting Emcees in positions to prevent them from
I'll make you question any and you've ever believed in
by peeping your deepest secrets like psychic
what's the matter with ya'll, I ya'll
against the muthafuckin wall with these raw lyrics I
none of got the balls big enough to battle
I go On & On like Erykah
a hundred times nicer the best is
twice as African as KRS is, who wanna this?
fuck y'all you don't me and no one can test me
an emcee so ill, I got AIDS to catch me
all shit you poppin' will stop, when I put you in a headlock,
and apply pressure until I crush your muthafuckin
I grab mics and push niggas to the
so fast their end up on the right side of their chests
my hypothesis, is that can see this
lyrical genius, i got it like a seamstress
but if you to battle, I'm down
if you got nine lives, I'll take of them off your hands right now
step up and get your neck cut ear to ear
if you survive then you can cover up your scar a beard
I'm the illest from Queens to the new briddicks
anyone who ain't feeling my shiddit can suck my
you need to quit it, if you spittin'
more than 50 bars per minute cause you in lyrical fitness
kickin' boring raps with that's wack
all of ya'll need Nordictrack
to get ya up, fuckin with Canibus you get ate up
beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my up
been longer than niggas twice my age
back in the days Bob Marley was rockin' a fade
before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed
before Neanderthals was on walls in caves
I existed, in the garden of gettin' lifted
stickin' dick to Eve she was Adam's mistress
before Christ created Christmas, I in lyrical fitness
the Canibus is spittin' til' he's
50 bars of total sickness, you won't this
I'm puttin' every wack emcee alive on my list
verbally vicious, telekinetically
took you a minute to exhibit I'm sick wit it
now you tell me who you think is shit
going once, twice
sold! to that nigga name
me and Mr.Cheeks, A-Plus, and Funk
hopping out the Huey to suey chop ya.