Luyện nghe bài hát Poppa Large

I get in and do my physical fitness
Your head's numb, so brains a miss this
'em up, eat 'em up, pick 'em up, beat 'em up
Pick 'em up pimple head, pick 'em up

I roll wit globs and I come real
the mic, I plug it up in your ears
Crazed and brewer. I'm coming out beers
Like Rheingold, Miller, Coors, and

I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like suds you
out the wick wack, wicky, wick able wack
Black jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your
The funk rhyme to master,

Kicking up in a brainstorm,
Rap storm, rap form, rap time, rap
Rap class, I'm here to fail and to
To continue, from the more, tip

I roll and rock, rock and
Jazz and pop, rhythm and
Dance and fusion, confusion
Look at the lights, a night on the town

I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East
I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast
I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast

Now I'm back to funk, freak the
Hype the funk, swipe the and all that junk
I get on 'em, communicate wit the world
Man, woman, a baby boy and a

Poppa looking out the pawn shop
stroud while your face and arms drop
Stop, look, learn to read, learn to learn to talk, learn to walk
And watch step though, I'm hype and ripe though

Kleptomaniac, my rhyme is
A Ricardo, a Guy Lombardo
a rag top, an El Dorado
Step Hollywood, I'm screening the boulevards

The rhymes is gain type, I'm to pull it's card
Jack or Ace, King or Queen, me the deuce
I'm pouring L.A. juice the top, feeling the rim
Getting a trim, I never rhyme like

On and on, on and on, on and on until the break of
I go overtime, rock the mic in
Daytime, off to Prime time
Specifically, strolling back in the west

Rock the funk wit the mic in the rhyme
and dope, hype the frame, the mic is smoking
Yo, I ain't
Rhyme to kill, to murder, rhyme to stomp

Rhyme to ill, rhyme to
Rhyme to smack, to shock, rhyme to roll
Rhyme to anything toy boy
On the

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East
I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast

You're dripping sweaty, coming on your neck
As I flow and grow from to toe
Seeking a style John McEnroe
Dissing 'em all, serving them wit the mic

Prince and Michael coming out wit a big band
The is loud, you can pay as the manager
Run wit the money, I pull the and damage ya
Boom, taking more serious

I may sound lyrical and very
Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill
A son of Sam, how could I begin
Grabbing the mic, you see the and shadows

in living hell, the funk, pound to pound
The funk ignited, hands are writing, brains
I'm out in sighting
Like I'm Blackula, a man that Dracula

Spectacular and not irregular in you are speaking impopular
Rhymes are moved and you can't be wit the
Beat as it to the rhyme that flows
Like a coke in a straw burning up in nose

That's a bad habit, stepping out on one
Drop the mic, come and turn to one
Look at the master, my range is
My lyrical burns, brain's on fire

I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the coast
I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the coast
I'm Large, big shot on the East coast
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the coast