Luyện nghe bài hát Poppa Large

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

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

I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like you duds
Coming out the wick wack, wicky, wick wack
jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your back
The funk to master, blaster

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

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

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

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

Poppa large looking out the shop
Taking stroud while face and arms drop
Stop, look, learn to read, learn to write learn to talk, learn to
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 is gain type, I'm ready to pull it's card
or Ace, King or Queen, call me the deuce
I'm pouring L.A. juice the top, feeling the rim
Getting a trim, I rhyme like them

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're in living hell, the funk, pound to
The ignited, hands are writing, brains dividing
I'm coming out in
Like I'm Blackula, a better man that

Spectacular and not irregular in fact you are speaking
Rhymes are moved and you be stop wit the
as it goes 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, your on fire

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

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