Luyện nghe bài hát Major League

Don't
So many the fame, but never see the day
When lyrically they could even run, in the
This the major leagues, where big hits are guaranteed
The ken griffey 850 professional mc
One time that cat defari
With a sting so blatant we call it franchise
Man sign, independent on enterprise
time to shoot straight, innovate, and make the world realize
That mics get ripped, and get blown
I strive to be a golden state all-time great, like
I gets burned the technics turn on mix shows and mix tapes
That you hear a car turns left on the street
You know that that make you bounce
'nuf respect to and evidence
Yo hold it down on the
I'm not hideo, don't got it nomo
I'm more like randy johnson, guaranteed heat for

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

I spitballs and sliders, and hit batters with attitude
The signal's in, and my catcher's 'fari
I got to risin on the mound, talkin at
the side, put on a jacket, ice my joints
And body parts, world-wide, is known
Have you fallin out the box when curves are thrown
angles, I disect the strategy, no cost
And just 'cause I choose to wander mean I'm lost
I got the button-up jersrey, written in cursive
I my heart to wax and put the in the open
Three men nine players, yo, that shit's unheard of
my eyes are open in takin' folks
One cat got on base but he didn't his lesson
I faked to first and him off at second
Patience is a virtue, yo he couldn't
cat's out, time waits for no man
it

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

It be the large caliber
Ask why try
slash rasco defari
Evidence, rhymes set the precedence
out the box, mcs to bobby sox
Major league, set to intrigue you fee
Nothin' to the game, we doused them flames
Take
Head for the fence, we prints
down the scent, then fold your whole tent
Stay
The illest on at all times
your bullpen, rasco just pulled into the lot
Be em out with one shot
While your pitch be hittin the plate at one
the pipe
The lieutenant that earn stripes
Bet strap in, to captain
Stand up, better yet, put hands up
And watch the triple threat come fuck them up
Smack niggas, with lyrical gems sayin hymns
Niggas still rappin 'bout and car rims
Man
But dishin corn, you get spreaded
We runnin on supreme, you runnin on
Couldn't match, you out the line-up, you been
Sittin on the bench, not feelin you one pinch, in the
We loadin the guns to stack
Went from stackin ones to them one-huns
runs
The the bat, the more fat
It's dilated, ras, 'fari, we back
Like that, like that, like that, like
Like that y'all, that, check it

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