Luyện nghe bài hát Bang It in Ya Whip

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

(these punk-ass niggaz, ain't ready)
(we men, haha!) younahi'msayin? what, nigga?
(we--we been doin' for years)
Y'all niggaz see this shit

Can't even fuck with this
(ain't nothin could us)
you know, on the corse of
(united to the fullest) word is bond
(sha-cronz) to the gods, uk, poppa wu
(recognize) buddha monk, in the house
(before we in drama)
Youknowwhati'msayin? all my niggaz to get hit. word up.
(who we are, who we be) all my about to get hit
(what we for) justice and equality
All my out there, too, up on the set

Hit niggaz like that, yo

fensta]
It's the sinister, sick clamidia
like no vagina, your retina
Screwin you hard, while I lick off your head
Pussy lips quiver as fright creaps in like a boa constrictor
to your ego, clostrophobia, new sensation, revelation
Niggaz bitch, emotional winch
Get slapped around like faggot frontin
You unleashed the beast the niece from garfield east
the heads of the 12 priests, crab louse, won't catch it
Shut the fuck up, your mouth is like (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 havoc with bodily structure, your natural impulses
(ah-ah-ah) your sexual cravings, your indulgence
Criminal antics, (hoo) your symnatics amaze me
Fuck around, be pushin up daisies
Like them niggaz who slept when assassins through your villa
you up... ahhh!

[buddha
Who's the monk iodine
You got your eye on mines, niggaz, you take mines?
one down to your spine, several parts almost never find
Royal blood kin on your line, I'm prepared to deal with fetal lines
Yo, it out...
I took, blow, yo, you ran up the and stuck 4
You should've it was them bones, next page, close the door
Wait, I ain't finished yet you so-called pros
You is packed like fuckin compactors
I'm blowin ya' back out, callin me the
The actual gets broke like a wish
And marrow bones stay parrow in my zone like
Niggaz is clones, blast off the palm, you're kept from sacred songs
The basics is first to hurts, so don't think fuckin zu's could in dirt
The projects is to eject shop up
The center, niggaz are scared to in
buddha monk, throw 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 higher than 10
Blank on tracks like hungry
Rappers funny style and holdin
Frontin, posted up bowlin
Pins rollin in chevy's, you're goin broke
a benz, I'm heavy on the neck
Pissin weights, can't kuwait
And objects, get these papes and
Ballad and cronz is a midget to an ape
care if you got a biscuit and, uh, 8
Niggaz rhymin with you, drama mental, time ain't you
Left dead, cops can't a motherfuckin pistol

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

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

[babyface
What, niggaz,