Luyện nghe bài hát DQ Blizzard

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

Get up on the mic like a on a fifty.
Quickly the hickeys of the bucktoothed bitties.
Fake Timberlake to be by Britney.
Smoke that pipe with Witney, shoot blow with Iggy.
L.I.B, N.Y.C and all in between,
you could call me a mint I make the green.
I the scene, I make believe that you all was naked,
so I wouldn't have to it. Just copy and paste it,
like Photoshop, Red Foreman in Robocop.
I get up on the mic and you I won't fuckin stop.
It's like the props of Top, or yellow stains 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'.
Let's get our groove on our carriage is a pumpkin,
before they fuckin', not bad for a drunken munchkin.
My name is MC Chris to my lyric luncheon.

word up, up, word 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.
Help me a DQ Blizzard, D-DQ Blizzard.
Help me a DQ Blizzard, D-DQ Blizzard.

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

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

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