Luyện nghe bài hát Bitchezwit Dikz

f/ Lil Dap, Miz

Intro: The Damaja
Yes yes

Check it out right now, knowhatimean?
Henryville, the bitchez wit dikz
in the midst,
of the real brothers the true wonders

Knowhatimsayin? Talkin all that shit about and this and that

But shit, I'mma drop it like this

{Jeru The
Bad bitches and techs, and sound

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

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

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

Chorus: The Damaja (Miz Marvel)

You see him the in the ghetto (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Think pimps, but they tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Turn to states (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
beef come they skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*
You see him the in the ghetto (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Think they pimps, but tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
beef come they skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Turn to evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*

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

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

Chorus

{Miz
The next contestant left to be a secret lethal
Against steppin, niggas is fake,
I scope first impression
Take the mics possession, with the discretion
And wit, fully 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 snares and tits
In the time of revolution, be the to submit
Try to be God, but there mental seem
Speakin mathematics, but quick to a crucifix
Won't admit that style is rip and counterfeited
Contradict, sell their men to bang their fit, a target
Thrown into the bottomless pit, bitchez wit

Chorus

(bitch! scratched and over)