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 could it be? Is it a bird? Is it a Is it a tree?
No, me, capital A, capital S, capital E

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

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

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

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

I'm laughin' ha, ha, fun to watch you weep as
You're cryin', dyin', tryin' to out the jeep ass
Nigga, bigger and better and badder than ever
Hittin' with hardcore lyrical calisthenics that me sore

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

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

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

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

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 men be killin' black men for talkin' shit

Here's the one talkin' shit

How the hell are we to wage war
the powers that be
When we are our own worst enemy?
why I'm the Masta, I'm tryin' to tell you kid
I'll break it down simply right back to the

I'm bashin', breakin', fry you like bacon
I don't smoke blunts, boy, you be mistaken
I do smoke mics and that come wid 'em
I hit 'em and get 'em and sit 'em down, then I 'em

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

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

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

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

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

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