Luyện nghe bài hát The Ebonic Plague

Ha Cru
Mic da one the mic check three
Cru in you
Mic checka da one the mic check

Mix it up the big Y.O
Comin' from the Laf with fat funk flow
So yo how you Tell me how you feelin'
Mad drug mad caps peelin'
I do my thing drink a
And I seen more Busch than Dan
Twist the caps of you fake John
Watch the pump shottie, make you look Kwame
about to drop the dirty understand the cipher
Got nothin' to lose so I'm-a do like a
Niggaz couldn't catch up the mustard, disgusted
Drop the shit gotcha brains dusted, bust it
is how it flow in the Bronx Zoo ya'll
Beef up a step and style with a
but the rough, understood?
Got me in double extra bulletproof wit' the hood
at the bar sippin' Beck's
Plus I got the "two and a microphone" on deck
So who's next? Ras
Flossin' ice, and drop that on dat ass
The IBF got my rhymes ranked they hittin'
Plus I'm all around like Pippen
Here it is, west, I mean China to Mexico
If you the way it's goin' down let me know
Fuck it, knows the ledge
All my Bronx niggaz know the wedge,
Uptown! Plus we got the love
Y.O.G., truly yours the Club

Yo
I was hot as 97 in '73
D.O.B. my multiple felonies see
You spit phlegm I fumes
Across the of kiosks hoverin' sand dunes
A man-nume, it's National Lampoon's Alien Vacation
I'm abductin' muthafuckin' rappers to my inner station
(What?) For
When Ras Kass get to off 'gnac, believe me
I hit below the
Bustin' balls like Riddick Bowe versus Gulotta
Hell I'm a rida
Ain't nuttin' sweetie, causin' like saccahrin
Action, intoxicated black men
An' nowadays fools forget what they named
a loyal cadets and priceless briquettes
Basically, I don't give a how rich ya get
I'll have you in the car to yourself
Like Alanis with turets
(Oh wee right ) I like sisters with vaginas so
(Can we get freaky )
Donald wouldn't let you shine his shoes my man
If you off you dyin' with your dick in your hand
Plus when shit hits the fan, I mean Ras reach the crowd
And verse to verse, my aura then rotate Earth
And fuck servin' emcees and livin' bummy
I'm on some show me the and still educate the dummies

all about me for you and you for me
And if ya do for two we do for three
You think it's 'bout the cash, the and jew-el-ry
We livin' in the age of the plague

all about me for you and you for me
And if ya do for two we do for three
You think 'bout the cash, the cars and jew-el-ry
We livin' in the age of the plague

You see the words is meshin' this lyrical aggression
pop shit we Joe Pesc'em no question
Cru session, no for second guessin'
Frontin' or fessin', we full court
Testin', any in our way learn a
Forever in my Stetson, chrome plated
We ain't got no for excuses and reasons
Bringin' nuttin' but butta in all seasons
Wanna blow my nose when I'm sneezin', wit' hundred dollar
I'm squeezin', breezin'
Through your nearest town wit' the frown
Those Bronx left a lastin' impression
Now think this, imagine Cru rhymers
Like world with no clock bein' timeless
dope when it come to the oratorical
Stay on the low wit' a dime adorable
Got the rap shit covered like johns
Big Ant taught me how to bear arms
L.A. to D.C. I my P.C
me a fifth of B.C
And we drink to your pass peeps that flashed heat
Never no more, when I pull I he
Think you could deal? You than Bjork
Belong up on Fantasy Isle Mr. Rourke