Luyện nghe bài hát Dynomite (Going Postal)

"Dy-no-mite!"]
Blaaaaze!

Wait hold the phone, pass the mic
Spread the word like Pastor Ike, ain't mass but like
We congregatin, mashin tonight
The boys in blue, I'll show you the brass is like
The perfect storm, when disaster strike
Or Knievel 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
Blue collar rap, why I call it
Shit I know my real niggaz that U-Haul hauled back
You a stand up man? Well you fall and crawl back
You a long thug, the fuck you call that?
See - this is how a track pound
And if was alive this 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 runnin for cover 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 a fire I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

You would stand the challenge
What the preachin what the teacher taught
I dropped out of school, stayed on the and fought
Disciples! Jeffrey manner to be exact
Where how you wear yo' hat you prone to attack
Made you, made you, made you go and get a
And keep you bustin 'til your enemies was from the map
a killer or a man or a giant 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 in Iran
I got niggaz to ride with me, me down in the street
And deep down I wonder if the beast, I mean
I the police, the feds that police them street
Get in the studio, try to influence my speech
Like a rat pidgeon or a mark or a gump
Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a

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