Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad

[Busta
Flip Mode, Funk Flex 3!

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

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

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

Digga]
What?! You like the hooptie that ain't been test
I say spittin', less stricken and cess ridden, WHAT?
Watch mack the steez
Then I cut a bitch like I was Latin Queens
Digga on the watch the sales quadruple
Flex like I'm it, red like my poo-poo!
Some shit with Fendi type
On some Rah-shit wit' real estate the Taj is
Fuckin' with the Outz on the
Had this click once but they reefer sucked
Well, time to blaze watch how I
'cause I be mad like Max and merciless Ming

Star]
Interception, the microphone in my direction
Let me step to these pussies raw dog no protection
Strokin' dem they bleed and they can't breathe
Run up in they click ten terrorizing theives
niggaz is twat, my squad form like SWAT
Spliff Star through ya like it or not
High off pot, make it hot a coke plot
to lose, we keeps the flock, I'm earnin' my props, WHAT!

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

Rhymes]
...get lucci, sport Gucci and papers
Tell me what's wrong got yo face bent up
Beats fuck your head up even got yo messed up
Step up, I when bitches get fly and dress up
(HA! What!) You believe I (HA!) tear the rest up
you finish clean the mess up, press up
Metaphor burn yo chest up
Who's the next up to be the fool to get the boxcutter
Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, TURN 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.