Luyện nghe bài hát Poppa Large

I get in and do my physical fitness
Your head's numb, so your brains a 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 sticky
Ripping the mic, I plug it up in ears
and brewer. I'm coming out like beers
Like Rheingold, Miller, Coors, and

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kleptomaniac, my is psycho
A Ricky Ricardo, a Guy
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, or Queen, call me the deuce
I'm L.A. juice hitting the top, feeling the rim
Getting a trim, I never like them

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

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

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

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

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

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

I may sound and very mysterious
Rhymes are grip tight, no to kill more
A son of Sam, how could I more
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 better man that

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

a bad habit, stepping out on stage one
Drop the mic, come and to page one
Look at the master, my is higher
My burns, your brain's on fire

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

I'm Poppa Large, big on the East coast
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