Luyện nghe bài hát Rollin' (Urban Assault Vehicle)

[Fred
Play the track!
Play fuckin track!! Oh there it is
Bizkit! DMX (what?)
Redman (that's y'all) Method Man
We just keep on baby
Are you ready...
Are you ready...
Are you ready!!!

Fred Durst]
Move in now out!
Hands up, now down!
Back up! up!
me what you gonna do now!
Breathe in, now out!
up, now hands down!
Back up! up!
Tell me you gonna do now! (C'mon!)
You rollin, rollin, rollin, rollin (Uh!)
Keep rollin, rollin, rollin, (What!)
rollin, rollin, rollin, rollin (Uh!)
Keep rollin, rollin, rollin,

Durst]
Now I know y'all be lovin this shit here
L-I-M-P, is right here
People in the house put hands in the air
Cause if you don't care, than we don't
See I, ain't a fuck, quit pressin your luck
Untouchable, unfuckable
So keep me in this cage, until you run mouth
Then I'ma the plague, and break the fuck out
And we'll see who's left, after one round wit X
And what am I bringin Just know it's Red and Meth
So where the fuck you at punk? the fuck up!
And back the fuck up, we fuck this track up!

Are you ready...
Are you ready...
Are you ready!!!

[Method
Oh what, y'all y'all wasn't gon' see me?
Check my, slang atrocious
I let these nuts hang, focus, it's Wu Tang
What the fuck's a Hootie and the
I my Black Flag at the roaches
who approaches, these twin,
Who have poisonous darts for
Too late to get your blow gun
You're left up and lightly toasted
So what, I drink and too much
So I cuss too much, shut the fuck up!

Yo, yo
Now when we roll, you motherfuckers tuck in gold
for the platinum, I'm jackin niggaz up in limos
It ain't nothin, for bullets to unbutton your
Description, male, tissue up in his nose
You bitches, swing the on the babboon nuts
I'm as hell, outta hell and tattoed up
I'm a dog only in the bathroom, what?
In high school, I only with the classroom sluts

[Method
My name is, Johnny, Donnie,
the gat low, cut your cash flow
Yell if you money, funny
A dummy snatch crumbs from me
Doc and Hot Niks, bodies in the pit

Yo, and I'm the D.O., you at the raw invented
on Friday, I spit 35 to 40
Smell up the bathroom like paw was in it
up, on your back, Wu swords up in it
Anyone can me I crack 'em all to Guinness
Fuck how thugs players and ballers in it
Brick City, Shaolin, call us sinners
Boys that'll run up in wife, maul and spill it
P- P- POW!
(AAAAAAAAAHH!)
Yo he c'mon!!

It just don't get no darker that kid with the Parker
Baldhead with the who shoots to make it spark
Now I'm a fair nigga, but nann nigga
quicker the hair-trigga, so if you dare nigga
It'll be your man tryin to hold yo' brain to yo' head
But you'll be shittin on yourslef cause you, already
And at the funeral you won't need a
just enough of him to stuff in a basket
A tisket a tasket, I really my ass kicked
My moms let me forget, that I'm a bastard
I ain't never shit, and ain't gon' be shit
That's why I take shit, whenever I see
It's just that D shit, D's short for do what I do
And that's what I'm gonna do, right here in of you
And I'll be runnin you and your man up out
y'all niggaz ain't runnin a FUCKIN thing but yo' mouth

[DMX
AAAAAAAAHHH!!!

You, wanna mess Limp Bizkit (yeah)
You can't mess with Bizkit (why?)
we get it on, (when?) every day and every night (oh)
See this platinum right here? (uh huh)
Well we doin it all the (what?)
So you better get better beats
And uh, get some rhymes (oooh!)
You really, really, really wanna get shit
Well people just get retarded
Get retarded, get retarded, people just get retarded!

That's baby!
out punk!
Limp Bizkit! DMX! Man! Redman!
And Beatz!
Where the fuck you at?! bark]
Bump that shit! Bump that shit! Bump shit! Bump that shit!
Ryders! Punk!