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? all that shit about this and this and that

But fakin shit, I'mma drop it this

{Jeru The
Bad bitches and techs, and affects

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

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

Dutches, chins, and get twist
And let it be known, I eat ya'll pussies like a movie
Drop 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)
Think they pimps, but they (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
to states evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
When beef come skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*
You never see him the in the (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Think they pimps, but they (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
When beef come skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
Turn to states (Bitchez Wit Dikz)
*bitch!*

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

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

Chorus

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

Chorus

(bitch! scratched and over)