Luyện nghe bài hát Major League

Don't
So many claim the fame, but see the day
When lyrically could even run, in the triple-a's
This the major leagues, where big hits are guaranteed
The ken turbo 850 professional mc
One more time cat defari
With a sting so blatant we call it franchise
Man sign, on some enterprise
It's time to shoot straight, innovate, and the world realize
That mics get ripped, and get blown
I strive to be a state all-time great, like j-ro
I gets when the technics turn on mix shows and mix tapes
That you when a car turns left on the street
You know that shit that make you
respect to rasco and evidence
Yo it down on the mound
I'm not like hideo, got it nomo
I'm like randy johnson, guaranteed heat for sure

Yo this that where the big hits are
This ain't no league affair this here the major leagues
You in the box ready for combat (what? )
But when you up to the plate better bring it fat

I throw spitballs and sliders, and hit batters with
The signal's in, and my 'fari herut
I got to risin on the mound, at pen-point
the side, put on a jacket, ice my joints
And body parts, world-wide, evidence is
Have you out the batter's box when curves are thrown
Precise angles, I disect the strategy, no
And just 'cause I to wander don't mean I'm lost
I got the jersrey, dilated written in cursive
I spill my to wax and put the in the open
Three men against players, yo, that shit's unheard of
Plus my eyes are open in folks
One cat got on but he didn't learn his lesson
I faked to first and him off at second
Patience is a virtue, yo he understand
That cat's out, time for no man
it

Don't
where the big hits are guaranteed
This ain't no minor league affair here the major leagues
You in the batter's box for combat (what? )
But when you step up to the

It be the large caliber
Ask why try
Microphone rasco defari
Evidence, rhymes set the precedence
Straight out the box, mcs to sox
Major league, set to intrigue you fee
Nothin' to the game, we doused small flames
names
Head for the fence, we track
down the scent, then fold your whole tent
Stay
The illest on at all times
your bullpen, rasco just pulled into the lot
Be strikin em out one shot
your pitch be hittin the plate at one spot
Down the
The lieutenant that earn stripes
Bet strap in, cadet to
Stand up, yet, put them hands up
And watch the triple threat fuck them plans up
Smack niggas, lyrical gems that sayin hymns
still rappin 'bout clothes and car rims
Man
But that corn, you get spreaded
We runnin on supreme, you on unleaded
Couldn't match, you out the line-up, you been
Sittin on the bench, not feelin you one pinch, in the
We loadin the to stack funds
Went stackin ones to stackin them one-huns
Scored
The hotter the bat, the fat
It's dilated, ras, 'fari, we back
Like that, like that, like that, like
Like that y'all, like that, it

Yo that where the big hits are guaranteed
This ain't no minor league this here the major leagues
You in the batter's box for combat (what? )
But you step up to the plate better bring it fat
Don't