Luyện nghe bài hát Bang It in Ya Whip

[intro: babyface fensta, (sha-cronz), monk>]

(these punk-ass niggaz, ain't ready)
(we made men, haha!) what, nigga?
(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 kingdom to the fullest) is bond
(sha-cronz) peace to the gods, uk, wu
(recognize) buddha monk, in the house
(before we bring in drama)
Youknowwhati'msayin? all my about to get hit. word up.
(who we are, who we be) all my about to get hit
(what we stand for) and equality
All my out there, too, up on the set

[babyface
It's the sinister, like clamidia
like no vagina, your retina
Screwin like you hard, while I lick off head
Pussy upper lips quiver as fright creaps in a boa constrictor
to your ego, clostrophobia, new sensation, revelation
Niggaz bitch, emotional winch
Get slapped around faggot niggaz frontin
You unleashed the like the niece from garfield east
Does the heads of the 12 priests, crab louse, catch it
Shut the fuck up, your mouth is punks (shut up!), always runnin (ha!)
From the '90's, so I never will like and pills (zu-zu-zu-zu-zu)
Leave you weary, and dreary (he-heh-heh-huu-ha!)
Create with your bodily structure, your natural impulses
(ah-ah-ah) your cravings, your freakish indulgence
Criminal antics, (hoo) your symnatics amaze me
around, you'll be pushin up daisies
Like them niggaz who slept assassins crept through your villa
you up... ahhh!

[buddha
Who's the monk iodine
You got eye on mines, niggaz, you wanna take mines?
Feel one down to your spine, several parts almost find
Royal blood kin on your fetal line, I'm prepared to deal with lines
Yo, it out...
I took, blow, yo, you ran up the and stuck 4
You should've known it was them bones, next page, the door
Wait, I ain't finished yet with you pros
You niggaz is packed like compactors
I'm ya' back out, callin me the subtractor
The actual nist gets like a wish
And marrow bones stay parrow in my like shadows
is clones, blast off the iron palm, you're kept from sacred songs
The basics is first to hurts, so don't think fuckin zu's rest in dirt
The projects is to eject up yets
The center, niggaz are scared to in
It's buddha monk, your head in the cha-a-am-ber

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

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

monk]
What? alright, check this fly shit, 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 motherfuckin track that
I'll elect to annihilate, serve on a mc
Who wanna test thee? ha, nigga
I'll serve you this here remedy, g-o-d 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, I'll huff and I'll puff
And yo' motherfuckin ass down, now stay down, ya low down
Better yet, here's a from the 4-pound
And the can't help ya, they yellin, "blue-uniformed man is down"

fensta]
What, niggaz,