Luyện nghe bài hát DQ Blizzard

Your rapper- he's whack dude, he even try?
Can he do what mine Think you should say buh bye.

Get up on the mic a five on a fifty.
Quickly avoid the of the bucktoothed bitties.
Fake just to be by Britney.
Smoke that with Witney, shoot that blow with Iggy.
L.I.B, N.Y.C and all in between,
you could me a mint 'cause I make the green.
I make the scene, I make that you all was naked,
so I have to fake it. Just copy and paste it,
like Photoshop, Red Foreman in Robocop.
I get up on the mic and you know I fuckin stop.
It's like the props of Carrot Top, or yellow in my socks.
You acting like you hip? all hepped up on hopps.
So, just do the body rock, cause the just be so bumpin'.
get our groove on before our carriage is a pumpkin,
before outlaw fuckin', not bad for a drunken munchkin.
My name is MC Chris to my lyric luncheon.

word up, word up, up, word up, and you know.

Name's MC, my the Lee Majors.
Put us on the bill, and boy ya hit paydirt.
When I'm on the mike, wanna flizzirt,
but I tell' em chill a DQ Blizzard.
me like a DQ Blizzard, D-DQ Blizzard.
Help me like a DQ Blizzard, Blizzard.

Like corn beef and cabbage, half savage.
The better than average rapper the, "have to have it," habit.
Their apperants on my carrot like they was Rabbit,
like fake paneling on the side of stationwagons.
Fraggle Rock on the box, Loops on my chin,
wonderin' if I'm ever really fit in,
or be a son of a bitch a gut and some tits,
or a casanova with my dick in a clit.
I'll be in a bit, I gotta floss my johnson,
that cream for the state Wisconsin.
You say all of my shit is nonsense,
my cd and the shitty ass contents.
Bullshit, my the bomb.
Siamese twins menage a trois.
Robot bitches want their massaged.
may not be real but them tits is large.

(damn) word up, word up, word up, up, and you know.

Your rapper- he's whack dude, does he even
Can he do what mine did? you should say buh bye.x2