Luyện nghe bài hát Bitchezwit Dikz

f/ Lil Dap, Miz

Jeru The Damaja
Yes yes

Check it out here now, knowhatimean?
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 it like this

The Damaja
Bad bitches and techs, and sound

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

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

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

Chorus: The Damaja (Miz Marvel)

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

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

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

Chorus

{Miz
The next contestant left to be a secret lethal
Against half steppin, is fake,
I scope first impression
Take the mics possession, with the discretion
And quick wit, equipped, mental lie detection
Ya cross like an intersection
You to count your blessings, all in the mix
Sold your soul for weight in gold bricks
Bitchez wit dikz, chips like chicks
Only talk with and tits
In the time of revolution, be the to submit
Try to be God, but there mental unfit
mathematics, but quick to kiss a crucifix
Won't admit their style is rip and counterfeited
Contradict, sell their men to bang fit, a moving target
into the bottomless pit, bitchez wit dikz

Chorus

(bitch! scratched and over)