Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad

[Busta
Flip Mode, Funk Volume 3!

It's battle of the stars, spittin' bars
Foreign cars, never to Mars
I'm the wizard of Oz, down to the yellow road
Flip Mode! Yo, we got this shit
98 an' the gold
I'm a dissector, 15 on the
Yo they owe me publishin' at
Don't let the Ramp wretch ya, catch ya
My squad the pressure, new trend setter
me get this cheddar, my life is gettin' better, WHA!

[Baby
Let me find out niggaz shit from the mouth
some two macs that's spittin' from the holsters
You feel this 'cause you chose
I wigs like the ocean, respect Moses
More clips to spit, Mode runnin' this shit
So to this, rollie on wrist
My platinum shit half sin
See me in the club by the bulgin' in
Rockin' the lin, my waves tight, dark skin
Baby Sham spittin' all in the mix on blends
Unhh...uhhh...

[Busta] ya'll niggaz wanna do right now?
[Flip Mode] We wanna do it again, we do it again
[Busta] I..say...what my Flip unit wanna do now?
[Flip Mode] We wanna do it again, again and again
I...say...do that shit
[Flip Mode] I say do that
[Busta] that real live shit
[Flip Mode] Uh do real live shit!
[Busta] You know we comin' shit
[Flip Mode] You know we comin' thru
[Busta] Ay-yo we to rule shit!
[Flip Ay-yo we here to rule shit!

Digga]
What?! You like the hooptie that ain't test driven
I say fresh spittin', stricken and cess ridden, WHAT?
'mira' mack the steez
Then I cut a bitch clean like I was Queens
on the track watch the sales quadruple
Flex I'm feelin' it, red like my poo-poo!
Some shit Fendi type galoshes
On some Rah-shit wit' real where the Taj is
Fuckin' with the on the pre-product
Had this other click but they reefer sucked
Well, time to blaze watch how I
'cause I be mad like Max and like Ming

[Spliff
Interception, throw the microphone in my
Let me step to these pussies raw dog wit' no
Strokin' dem they bleed and they can't breathe
Run up in click with ten terrorizing theives
Ya'll is twat, my squad form like SWAT
Spliff Star comin' ya like it or not
High off pot, make it hot like a plot
Refuse to lose, we keeps the flock, I'm my props, WHAT!

[Lord Have
Ay-yo fuck dem and they love on this Earth
Keep 'em runnin' from birth the jet black bubble cris Hurst
And run a stick turf wit' his purse
Hustlin' curse pastors who got guns in the church
in the church...hmmm...rum in the church
Dark, kissin' a worm they jugular burst
Speak last rites then kick the dust on them
Kemosabe! Your arms too short to box me
(For-geddit) shots wit' me (for-geddit)
now cry later, I kill beef like mad cow
My blaze up for nine acres...

[Busta
...get lucci, sport Gucci and papers
Tell me what's nigga got yo face bent up
Beats your head up even got yo mind messed up
Step up, I love when bitches get fly and up
(HA! What!) You believe I (HA!) tear the rest up
When you finish clean the up, press up
acid burn yo chest up
Who's the next up to be the to get the boxcutter X-er
Throwin' me off, you be in labor, TURN Funkmaster Flex-uh!

[Funkmaster Flex] ...yeah, aaight? Busta Rhymes, Flip Squad!
60 minutes! Flavor... Big shout to for understandin' how
the flex...Yeah...what the deal.