Luyện nghe bài hát Bang It in Ya Whip

[intro: babyface fensta, (sha-cronz),
(these punk-ass niggaz, they ready)
(we made men, haha!) younahi'msayin? what,
(we--we been doin' for years)
niggaz can't see this shit

Can't even fuck with this
(ain't could stop us)
you know, on the corse of desperados
(united to the fullest) word 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 to get hit. word up.
(who we are, who we be) all my mommys to get hit
(what we for) justice and equality
All my out there, too, up on the set

[babyface
It's the sinister, sick clamidia
Burn no vagina, your retina
Screwin like you hard, while I lick off head
Pussy upper quiver as fright creaps in like a boa constrictor
Blow to ego, clostrophobia, new sensation, revelation
Niggaz turn bitch, winch
Get around like faggot niggaz frontin
You unleashed the beast like the niece from garfield
Does the heads of the 12 priests, crab louse, catch it
Shut the fuck up, mouth is like punks (shut up!), always runnin (ha!)
From the '90's, so I will like onions and pills (zu-zu-zu-zu-zu)
you weary, teary-eyed and dreary (he-heh-heh-huu-ha!)
Create with your bodily structure, your natural impulses
(ah-ah-ah) your sexual cravings, your indulgence
Criminal antics, (hoo) your symnatics amaze me
Fuck around, you'll be pushin up
Like them who slept when assassins crept through your villa
you up... ahhh!

[buddha
Who's the killa? iodine
You got your eye on mines, niggaz, you take mines?
Feel one down to your spine, parts almost 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 and stuck 4
You should've known it was them bones, page, close the door
Wait, I finished yet with you so-called pros
You niggaz is packed like compactors
I'm blowin ya' back out, callin me the
The actual nist gets broke like a
And bones stay parrow in my zone like shadows
Niggaz is clones, blast off the iron palm, you're from sacred songs
The basics is first to hurts, so don't think fuckin could rest in dirt
The projects is to eject up yets
The center, niggaz are scared to in
It's monk, throw your head in the cha-a-am-ber

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

[chorus (x2): monk]
We catchin large amounts, and upstate
Sha-cronz, buddha monk and our nigga,
It's an mc's to test the zu's great
And we stop, until death is a bedmate

monk]
What? alright, check fly shit, this do or die shit
Monk 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, on a fake mc
Who wanna test thee? ha, please
I'll serve you this here remedy, g-o-d up ya whole family
Yea, you know that's got to be me, swingin like through trees
With a 9 in my hand, mane anybody who wants to this mc
And if that's not enough, then I'll and I'll puff
And mack yo' motherfuckin ass down, now stay down, ya low
Better yet, here's a shot the 4-pound
And the cops can't ya, they yellin, "blue-uniformed man is down"

[babyface
What, niggaz,