Luyện nghe bài hát Dynomite (Going Postal)

"Dy-no-mite!"]
Blaaaaze!

Wait the phone, muh'fucker pass the mic
Spread the word like Pastor Ike, this ain't but like
We ain't congregatin, tonight
The in blue, I'll show you what the brass is like
The perfect storm, when disaster strike
Or when he crashed his bike
I'm the ashy type, like the on an inmate locked up
'Cept I stay on the grind, my "Blue Collar" up
collar rap, why I call it that?
Shit I know my real niggaz U-Haul done hauled back
You ain't a stand up Well you fall and crawl back
You a long distance thug, the fuck you that?
See - this is how a should pound
And if King was alive is how he would sound
"You a nigga, you a mark, you a gump
lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a chuuump"

I'm the light, I'm the fuse,
I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}
Niggaz for cover from the fallin debris
I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}
Explosive, nigga blowin up the
I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}
I'm the keg, I'm the powder, I'm the fuse, I'm the
If it look like a I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

You would stand the challenge
What the preacher what the teacher taught
I out of school, stayed on the street and fought
Like Disciples! manner to be exact
Where how you wear yo' hat made you prone to
Made you, you, made you go and get a strap
And keep you bustin 'til your enemies was from the map
Like a killer or a man or a when I stand
Open my palm bitch, I got the in my hand
Got a gun and a plan, I got the bible and the
I got a bomb like I live in
I got niggaz to with me, hold me down in the street
And deep down I wonder if they the beast, I
I mean the police, the that police them street
Get in the studio, then try to my speech
a rat stool pidgeon or a mark or a gump
Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a

You would your own momma for a piece of a crumb
A piece of the crunk, that ain't even where you
Youse a follower (what~!) that's right, a follower
Probably wearin a wire, so I don't talk to ya
You these niggaz is thugs, they officers
Call the oficers, tell 'em get 'em officers, 'fore I you
'Bout a killer or a man or a giant when I
Open my bitch, I got the world in my hand
Got a gun and a plan, I got the and the Qu'ran
I got your toddler in the of a van
I got a hostage and a of demands, I gotta gotta
'bout a dollars say you couldn't sit where I stand
All these that spit threats, hoes that get wet
My style's to the toilet, you ain't seen shit yet
Yet, yet and still I keep it hot like, meals
I got a Cadillac stretch
I can you how to flip for real
don't hold the rock, but they know how to flip it and chill
Dime bag-ass niggaz large
When the Patriot Act come hit they ass with the charge
And we, is what made it fo'
You think it's all Arabs? It's a war on the po', we gotta go
Like a killer or a man or a giant he stand
Open your bitch, we got the world in our hand