Luyện nghe bài hát The Ebonic Plague

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

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

Yo
I was hot as 97 in '73
D.O.B. my pedigree felonies see
You spit phlegm I fumes
Across the ruins of hoverin' sand dunes
A man-nume, it's National Lampoon's Alien Vacation
I'm abductin' muthafuckin' rappers to my inner space
(What?) For
When Ras Kass get to swervin' off 'gnac, me
I hit the belt
Bustin' balls like Riddick Bowe versus Gulotta
Hell yeah I'm a
Ain't nuttin' sweetie, cancer causin' like
Action, intoxicated chinky-eyed men
An' nowadays fools forget what actually named
Besides a loyal cadets and priceless
Basically, I give a shit how rich ya get
I'll you in the car talkin' to yourself
Like Alanis Morisette turets
(Oh wee that's right ) I like sisters vaginas so
(Can we get freaky )
Donald Trump wouldn't let you shine his my man
If you pissed off you with your dick in your hand
Plus when shit hits the fan, I mean when Ras reach the
And verse to verse, switch my aura then Earth
And fuck that servin' emcees and livin'
I'm on show me the money and still educate the dummies

It's all 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 ebonic

all about me for you and you for me
And playa if ya do for two we do for
You think it's 'bout the cash, the cars and
We in the age of the ebonic plague

You see the words is through this lyrical aggression
Punk's pop shit we Joe no question
Cru session, no for second guessin'
Frontin' or fessin', we full pressin'
Testin', any in our way a lesson
Forever in my Stetson, plated Wesson
We ain't got no for excuses and reasons
Bringin' nuttin' but in all four seasons
Wanna my nose when I'm sneezin', wit' hundred dollar bills
Foes I'm squeezin',
your nearest town wit' the frown expression
Those Bronx streets left a impression
Now think this, imagine Cru rhymers
Like this world with no clock bein'
dope when it come to the oratorical
Stay on the low wit' a dime adorable
Got the rap shit covered like long
Big brother Ant me how to bear arms
L.A. to D.C. I my P.C
Keeps me a of B.C
And we gon' drink to your pass peeps flashed heat
no more, when I pull I blast he
Think you could deal? You crazier than
Belong up on Fantasy Isle Mr. Rourke