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, been to Mars
I'm the wizard of Oz, to the yellow brick road
Flip Mode! Yo, we got this shit
98 an' the gold
I'm a dissector, 15 on the
Yo owe me publishin' at Elektra
Don't let the Ramp wretch ya, I'm-a ya
My bring the pressure, new trend setter
Watch me get this cheddar, my is gettin' better, WHA!

[Baby
Let me out niggaz poppin' shit from the mouth
some two macs that's spittin' from the holsters
You feel this 'cause you this
I split wigs the ocean, respect Moses
clips to spit, Flip 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 spin tight, dark skin
Baby Sham all in the mix on foul blends
Unhh...uhhh...

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

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

[Spliff
Interception, throw the microphone in my
Let me step to these pussies raw dog no protection
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' through ya it or not
High off pot, make it hot a coke plot
Refuse to lose, we keeps the flock, I'm my props, WHAT!

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

[Busta
...get lucci, sport Gucci and papers
me what's wrong nigga got yo face bent up
Beats fuck your head up got yo mind messed up
Step up, I when bitches get fly and dress up
(HA! What!) You best 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 to get the boxcutter X-er
Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, Funkmaster Flex-uh!

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