Luyện nghe bài hát The Big East

Who is the man with the hats, the snaps
Droppin' the raps with the truth to the youth that's bustin' the
Who it be? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a tree?
No, it's me, capital A, capital S, E

Boomin' like thunda, strikin' like
to my Slaughtahouse, I know it's frightenin'
I'm hittin' 'em over the head lyrical styles like a bottle
My foot's on the pedal, my is on the throttle

I'm turbo-boostin' Houston to Vegas
You want us to quit but, shit, you can't us
There's too much money to make, money to get, money to
My pockets are on E and I want to burn

I got gusto yo, I'm zeekin' 'em
Rollin' with LD, Ken, Eyce, and 'em
Phat tracks, I'm freakin', to your auntie
It's all over your face, I know you want me

Scientifical, war
Rhymes that beats than trigonometry four
So open your books to page one and I'll you how it's done
It's the kid without a gun

I'm ha, ha, it's fun to watch you weep as
cryin', dyin', tryin' to figure out the jeep ass
Nigga, and better and badder than ever before
with hardcore lyrical calisthenics that make me sore

And on the show of fire, of the real
Get with the and I'm slammin' like Shaquille
on your head, do what I said, backin' me up is the D
You must be crazy if you wanna with me

'Cuz I am not the one, kid, oh, no, he the one, son
The shank in my sock chop you like a onion
So boom, head for the hills, head for the border
I slaughter like white sharks, I'm makin' sparks

Comin' the Big Eeast, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you know? Don't even about it, yeah
from the Big East, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you know? Don't think about it, yeah

from the Big East, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you Don't even think about it, yeah
Comin' the Big East, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you know? Don't even think about it,

As I walk through Brooklyn, Compton or
I wonder why black don't wanna stick together
We talk justice and how little we get
Yet black men be black men for talkin' shit

Here's the one talkin' shit

How the are we supposed to wage war
Against the powers be
When we are still our own enemy?
why I'm the Masta, I'm tryin' to tell you kid
I'll it down simply right back to the freestiddyle

I'm bashin', breakin', I'll fry you bacon
I don't smoke blunts, boy, you be mistaken
I do smoke mics and MC's come wid 'em
I hit 'em and get 'em and sit 'em down, I spit 'em

Out lyrical phlegm from deep within me
I'm not John, but I'm Madden, I'll give you Moore Demi
I burn tobasco, your ass, yo, don't beg
Miss Crabtree, Stumpy said you had a leg

So I brought my ax and a box full of
I got your big fat booty in my sites
I'm not from but I fly like an eagle
My rap book is than a catalog from Spiegel

A Regal I do not drive, I a jeep and
I should say one, some suckers caught me sleepin'
But next time they in my car to rip the Ace off
I'll have a pitbull waitin' to rip their face off

from the Big East, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you know? Don't think about it, yeah
Comin' from the Big East, boy, we slippin'
Don't you know? Don't even think it, yeah

Comin' from the Big East, boy, we slippin'
Don't you know? Don't even think it, yeah
from the Big East, boy, we ain't slippin'
Don't you know? Don't even think about it,

On and on and on, on
On and on and on, on
Do you in America?
Do you of America?