Luyện nghe bài hát The Big East

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here's the one talkin' shit

How the are we supposed to wage war
the powers that be
When we are still our own worst
That's why I'm the Masta, I'm tryin' to you kid
I'll break it down right back to the freestiddyle

I'm bashin', breakin', I'll fry you like
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 some lyrical phlegm from deep me
I'm not John, but I'm Madden, I'll give you Moore than
I burn like tobasco, your ass, yo, beg
Miss Crabtree, Stumpy said you had a leg

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

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

Comin' 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? even think about it, yeah

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

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