Luyện nghe bài hát Bang It in Ya Whip

[intro: babyface fensta, (sha-cronz), *echo*
(these niggaz, they ain't ready)
(we men, haha!) younahi'msayin? what, nigga?
(we--we doin' this for years)
Y'all niggaz can't see this

Can't even fuck with this
(ain't nothin stop us)
you know, on the corse of desperados
(united kingdom to the fullest) is bond
(sha-cronz) peace to the gods, uk, wu
(recognize) buddha monk, sha-cronz in the
(before we in drama)
Youknowwhati'msayin? all my niggaz about to get hit. up.
(who we are, who we be) all my mommys to get hit
(what we stand for) youknowwhati'msayin?
Hit them like that, yo

fensta]
It's the sinister, like clamidia
Burn like no vagina, retina
Screwin like you hard, while I lick off your
Pussy upper lips quiver as fright creaps in a boa constrictor
to your ego, clostrophobia, new sensation, revelation
Niggaz bitch, emotional winch
Get around like faggot niggaz frontin
You unleashed the beast like the niece garfield east
Does the heads of the 12 priests, crab louse, won't it
Shut the up, your mouth is like punks (shut up!), always runnin (ha!)
From the '90's, so I never will like onions and (zu-zu-zu-zu-zu)
you weary, teary-eyed and dreary (he-heh-heh-huu-ha!)
Create havoc with bodily structure, your natural impulses
(ah-ah-ah) your sexual cravings, your indulgence
Criminal antics, (hoo) your don't amaze me
around, you'll be pushin up daisies
Like them niggaz who slept when assassins through your villa
you up... ahhh!

[buddha
Who's the killa? monk
You got your eye on mines, niggaz, you wanna mines?
Feel one down to your spine, several parts never find
Royal blood kin on your fetal line, I'm prepared to with fetal lines
Yo, it out...
I took, blow, yo, you ran up the block and 4
You should've known it was them bones, next page, the door
Wait, I finished yet with you so-called pros
You is packed like fuckin compactors
I'm blowin ya' back out, callin me the
The nist gets broke like a wish
And marrow bones stay parrow in my zone shadows
Niggaz is clones, off the iron palm, you're kept from sacred songs
The basics is to hurts, so don't think fuckin zu's could rest in dirt
The projects is to shop up yets
The center, are scared to enter in
It's buddha monk, throw your in the cha-a-am-ber

Yo, the real pro, put my skills to work
That show's and about a mil' I'm worth
Get than 10 kilohertz
Blank on tracks like hungry
Rappers actin funny and holdin
Frontin, posted up like
Pins in chevy's, while you're goin broke
Holdin a benz, I'm on the neck
Pissin weights, risk kuwait
And objects, get papes and escape
Ballad and cronz is like a to an ape
Don't if you got a biscuit and, uh, 8
Niggaz rhymin you, drama mental, time ain't with you
Left dead, cops find a motherfuckin pistol

[chorus (x2): buddha
We large amounts, over-seas and upstate
Sha-cronz, monk and our nigga, babyface
an mc's fate to test the zu's great
And we won't stop, until death is a

monk]
What? alright, check fly shit, this do or die shit
drive-by hit, yea, bang it in ya whip
If I do it any way I do it
Let me roast punks off this track that dumps
I'll elect to annihilate, serve on a mc
Who wanna test ha, nigga please
serve you this here remedy, g-o-d fuckin up ya whole family
Yea, you know got to be me, swingin like tarzan through trees
With a 9 in my hand, anybody who wants to battle this mc
And if that's not enough, then I'll huff and I'll
And yo' motherfuckin ass down, now stay down, ya low down
Better yet, here's a shot the 4-pound
And the cops help ya, they yellin, "blue-uniformed man is down"

fensta]
What, niggaz,