Luyện nghe bài hát DQ Blizzard

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

Get up on the mic a five on a fifty.
Quickly the hickeys of the bucktoothed bitties.
Fake just to be by Britney.
that pipe with Witney, shoot that blow with Iggy.
L.I.B, N.Y.C and all in between,
you could call me a mint 'cause I the green.
I make the scene, I make believe you all was naked,
so I wouldn't have to fake it. Just and paste it,
Adobe Photoshop, Red Foreman in Robocop.
I get up on the mic and you I won't fuckin stop.
It's like the of Carrot Top, or yellow stains in my socks.
You acting like you hip? Your all up on hopps.
So, just do the body rock, cause the beat be so bumpin'.
get our groove on before our carriage is a pumpkin,
before they fuckin', not bad for a drunken munchkin.
My is MC Chris welcome 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 em chill like a DQ Blizzard.
Help me a DQ Blizzard, D-DQ Blizzard.
Help me a DQ Blizzard, D-DQ Blizzard.

Like corn beef and cabbage, half savage.
The better than average rapper with the, "have to it," habit.
Their on my carrot like they was Jessica Rabbit,
like fake paneling on the side of stationwagons.
Fraggle on the box, Fruit 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 roaming casanova my dick in a clit.
be back in a bit, I gotta floss my johnson,
make 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 want menage a trois.
Robot bitches want their massaged.
They may not be but them tits is large.

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

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