Luyện nghe bài hát The Ebonic Plague

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

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

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

It's all 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

It's all me for you and you for me
And playa if ya do for two we do for
You it's 'bout the cash, the cars and jew-el-ry
We in the age of the ebonic plague

You see the words is meshin' this lyrical aggression
pop shit we Joe Pesc'em no question
Cru session, no time for guessin'
Frontin' or fessin', we full court
Testin', any in our way learn a
in my Stetson, chrome plated Wesson
We got no time for excuses and reasons
Bringin' nuttin' but butta in all four
Wanna blow my when I'm sneezin', wit' hundred dollar bills
Foes I'm squeezin',
your nearest town wit' the frown expression
Those Bronx streets a lastin' impression
Now about this, imagine Cru rhymers
Like this world with no clock bein'
Pure dope it come to the oratorical
on the low wit' a dime that's adorable
Got the rap covered like long johns
Big brother Ant me how to bear arms
L.A. to D.C. I my P.C
me a fifth of B.C
And we gon' drink to your pass that flashed heat
Never no more, when I I blast he
Think you deal? You crazier than Bjork
Belong up on Isle with Mr. Rourke