Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad

[Busta
Mode, Funk Flex Volume 3!

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

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

[Busta] What ya'll niggaz wanna do now?
[Flip We wanna do it again, we wanna do it again
[Busta] I..say...what my Flip Mode wanna do now?
Mode] We wanna do it again, again again and again
[Busta] I...say...do shit
Mode] I say do that shit
[Busta] Uh-do that live shit
[Flip Mode] Uh do real live shit!
[Busta] You know we comin' shit
[Flip Mode] You know we comin' thru
Ay-yo we here 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', less and cess ridden, WHAT?
Watch mack the steez
Then I cut a bitch clean like I was Queens
on the track watch the sales quadruple
Flex like I'm feelin' it, red my poo-poo!
Some shit with type galoshes
On some Rah-shit wit' real where the Taj is
Fuckin' the Outz on the pre-product
Had this other click once but they reefer
Well, time to blaze how I swing
'cause I be mad like Max and like Ming

Star]
Interception, throw the microphone in my
Let me step to these raw dog wit' no protection
Strokin' dem until they and they can't breathe
Run up in they click with ten terrorizing
Ya'll is twat, my squad form like SWAT
Spliff comin' through ya like it or not
High off pot, make it hot like a coke
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 from birth til' the jet black bubble cris Hurst
And run a stick wit' double his purse
Hustlin' curse like pastors who got guns in the
in the church...hmmm...rum in the church
Dark, kissin' a worm they jugular burst
Speak last rites kick the dust on them first
Kemosabe! Your arms too short to box me
(For-geddit) Call wit' me (for-geddit)
Laugh now cry later, I beef like mad cow
My blaze up for nine acres...

Rhymes]
...get lucci, Gucci and stack papers
Tell me wrong nigga got yo face bent up
fuck your head up even got yo mind messed up
Step up, I love when bitches get fly and up
(HA! What!) You best believe I (HA!) tear the up
When you finish the mess up, press up
Metaphor acid burn yo up
Who's the next up to be the fool to get the X-er
Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, Funkmaster Flex-uh!

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