Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad

[Busta
Mode, Funk Flex Volume 3!

It's like battle of the stars, spittin'
Foreign cars, never to Mars
I'm the wizard of Oz, to the yellow brick road
Flip Mode! Yo, we got this blowed
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 squad bring the pressure, new trend
me get this cheddar, my life is gettin' better, WHA!

[Baby
Let me find out niggaz poppin' shit the mouth
Post-ponin' two macs that's spittin' from the holsters
You feel this you chose this
I split wigs like the ocean, respect
More to spit, Flip Mode runnin' this shit
So to this, rollie on wrist
My shit half wit' sin
See me in the by the door bulgin' in
Rockin' the lin, my waves spin tight, skin
Baby Sham spittin' all in the mix on blends
Unhh...uhhh...

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

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

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

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

Rhymes]
...get lucci, sport and stack papers
Tell me what's wrong nigga got yo face up
Beats fuck your head up even got yo mind up
Step up, I love bitches get fly and dress up
(HA! What!) You best believe I (HA!) tear the up
When you finish clean the mess up, up
acid burn yo chest up
Who's the up to be the fool to get the boxcutter X-er
Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, TURN Flex-uh!

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