Luyện nghe bài hát The Ebonic Plague

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

Mix it up the big Y.O
Comin' from the Laf with fat funk flow
So yo how you feelin'? Tell me how you
Mad drug mad caps peelin'
I do my drink a Budweiser
And I seen more Busch than Dan
Twist the caps of you fake John
Watch the pump shottie, make you look Kwame
Cru's about to drop the understand the cipher
Got to lose so I'm-a do like a lifer
Niggaz couldn't catch up the mustard, disgusted
Drop the shit that gotcha brains dusted, it
This is how it flow in the Zoo ya'll
up a step and style with a fall
Nothin' but the rough,
Got me in extra large bulletproof wit' the hood
Sittin' at the bar Beck's
Plus I got the "two turntables and a microphone" on
So who's Rugged Ras
Flossin' ice, and that soul on dat ass
The IBF got my ranked 'cause they hittin'
Plus I'm all around like Pippen
it is, east west, I mean China to Mexico
If you love the way it's goin' down let me
Fuck it, Harlem knows the
All my Bronx niggaz 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 multiple felonies see
You spit I spit fumes
Across the ruins of kiosks hoverin' sand
A miniature man-nume, it's National Alien Vacation
I'm abductin' muthafuckin' rappers to my inner space
(What?) For
When Ras Kass get to off 'gnac, believe me
I hit the belt
Bustin' niggaz balls Riddick Bowe versus Gulotta
Hell I'm a rida
Ain't nuttin' sweetie, causin' like saccahrin
Action, intoxicated chinky-eyed men
An' nowadays fools forget what actually named
a loyal cadets and priceless briquettes
Basically, I don't a shit how rich ya get
have you in the car talkin' to yourself
Like Morisette with turets
(Oh wee that's right ) I like sisters with so
(Can we get toniiiiight )
Donald Trump wouldn't let you his shoes my man
If you pissed off you dyin' with your dick in your
Plus shit hits the fan, I mean when Ras reach the crowd
And verse to verse, switch my aura then Earth
And fuck that servin' and livin' bummy
I'm on some show me the money and still the dummies

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

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 court pressin'
Testin', any in our way learn a
Forever in my Stetson, chrome Wesson
We got no time for excuses and reasons
nuttin' but butta in all four seasons
Wanna blow my nose when I'm sneezin', wit' hundred bills
Foes I'm squeezin',
your nearest town wit' the frown expression
Those Bronx streets a lastin' impression
Now think about this, Cru rhymers
Like this world with no bein' timeless
Pure dope when it come to the
on the low wit' a dime that's adorable
Got the rap shit covered long johns
Big brother Ant taught me how to arms
L.A. to D.C. I my P.C
me a fifth of B.C
And we gon' to your pass peeps that flashed heat
Never no more, when I I blast he
Think you could deal? You than Bjork
up on Fantasy Isle with Mr. Rourke