Luyện nghe bài hát Bitchezwit Dikz

f/ Lil Dap, Miz

Intro: Jeru The
Yes yes

Check it out right here now,
Henryville, the bitchez wit dikz
in the midst,
of the real whose the true wonders

Talkin all that shit about this and this and that

But fakin shit, I'mma drop it this

{Jeru The
Bad and techs, and sound affects

Talk but skate Tara Lipinski, when shit get hec-tic
Out in Brooklyn, too late you's a
And if spend major dough on a hoe, you a bitch ass
and players, no I'm not a hater

'cause I smashed it off, she me down I ain't pay her
youse a regulator,
soft like C3PO, but pop shit like Darth
For Princess Leia, flesh hard like Shaggy
Your booty, when get raw you Doo like Scooby
I'm snatching chains, mics and platinum groupies

Dutches, chins, and hips get
And let it be known, I eat ya'll pussies like a porno
that bitch with a dick, and get a nigga like this

Chorus: Jeru The (Miz Marvel)

You never see him the in the (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
they pimps, but they tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Turn to evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
When beef come skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*
You see him the in the ghetto (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Think they pimps, but tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
When come they skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Turn to evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*

{Lil Dap
You niggas are East New York waste, spit in your face
Open your mouth, swallow the taste, to the pace
like showin the love, the same thing as pullin the club
Spit it out, ya hoes know what shit is about
Bitchez wit dicks, and a nigga mad as shit
Cough the cough, when singing thru the streets of New
Holdin it down, but my banner all around

'cause these whole motherfuckers, wanna are town
Thinkin they down, but dont BK grounds
*bitch!*

Chorus

{Miz
The contestant left to be a secret lethal weapon
Against steppin, niggas is fake,
I them first impression
Take the possession, with the greatest discretion
And quick wit, fully equipped, mental lie
Ya eyes like an intersection
You forget to count blessings, all in the mix
Sold your for it's weight in gold bricks
Bitchez wit dikz, with chips like
Only talk snares and tits
In the time of revolution, be the first to
Try to be God, but there mental unfit
Speakin mathematics, but quick to kiss a
Won't admit that style is rip and counterfeited
Contradict, sell their men to bang fit, a moving target
Thrown into the pit, bitchez wit dikz

Chorus

(bitch! scratched and over)