Luyện nghe bài hát Westwood Freestyle 2010

[Verse 1: Mr.
to the ill world of Mr. P-O
Ay, keep the talk, B; I'm tryna see
If it about bread, what we gon' speak fo
If it no lead, then it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a leash cause your ho
Specialize in wood she Home Depot
I'm like Chico DeBarge, we
Roscoe P. Coltrane in bars, man
Amtrak, break her damn back, man
It's Ralph Lauren, this ain't no damn
It's all I'm so pro though
You El Pollo Loco
Talking bout cheese and this no photo
Asking bout rings like the ho Frodo
You get out of my house and shit
I think I threw up in my a bit, I'm sick

[Verse 2: da 5'9"]
be lying, talking 'bout that, bust a heater
Once I see him, more like Justin Bieber
Leaving my rivals underground Skyzoo's, how I do
I have her laying in the street and
Butt naked with a in his muthafucking head like Erykah Badu
I find irony in in a place
Where I'm wearing Gucci, mayne; getting boy wasted
I a nigga, break bread or take lead
I'm tryna get rid of this weight K-Fed
Me and Denaun got a gangsta
We like that once-in-a-lifetime thang to you that ain't the
The next MC that rhyme with ref with a whistle
That ain't Young Money, definitely diss you
If you rhyming packing a Mac back of the Ac
Or perhaps you can't my spectacular vernacular
You rhyming bottles with models, college for knowledge
Using the word swagger, probably garbage
You funny, comparing 5'9" to anybody
You Superman to Bugs Bunny

[Verse 3:
I'm like a Michael - Vick, psycho enough to stick
Michael J. Fox in a with a Rott
I make a little Alizé with a side of NyQuil
And ride a bike right through the side of my high school
Satan's disciple with a sniper rifle and a and a white diaper
to shit on you while I snipe you
So dope he gets off opiates, what an
Way to start off his day; he may just off to Dre
He may be hard to cause his rage is so hard to gauge
See Hannibal ate his and met Jason, gnawed off his leg
hard-on for razors and blades and anything sharp
Even poisonous it all plays a major part of his game
Holy won't ward him off, crucifixes won't do the trick
He's so sick, it's ridiculous; sawed the part off his brain
He's insane, why's there bloodstains on his carpet, mane
There's some crazy shit going on in apartment again

4: Mr. Porter]
Okay, it's back to the blocks, yay like the old days
Superman on the beat, I carry my state
You wooden legs to a house: you hold weight
Oh shit, O'Shea Jackson! Okay
A little bit of twisted out with Obama in it
Mr. Porter back with anthrax Osama sent him
Bitch, I'm all that; I the girls crazy
gotta look at Rorschachs to get they thoughts back
I ain't a small fry, small ticker, small
I make 'em all cry with big and raw sack
The potblood of science to a raw rap
I'm the best, Eli Porter stance

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches should call the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don Goines and John
Flow'll have you rewinding it four or five
That rhyme written with porcupine line
up in here with the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. Gang approach you and bend ya gun barrel to a Horseshoe
Only fuck wit monsters, we the truth, will pop up on ya
Like ya Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice
I can't even see the booth, I could fit shoe
I'm sick, I got the Desert flu
I'm rich, lil' nigga, we need a cent, we Teflon
The doctor tried to blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my if you can imagine
Using Magic's without a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, tremendous
If I come for ya blood, I ain't gon' be syringes

6: Eminem]
Newsflash, I'm trashed, them pills shoulda killed my ass
But they didn't, they just me stronger
It's like they rebuilt my ass, the Six Million Dollar Man after the crash
It's Aftermath, bitch And my milk glass is still
Yeah, tempt me! Hell enough
need to invent somewhere new to send me
As as I'm getting, they'll stick me in a conventional oven
a rotisserie setting and won't even notice me sweating
Shit, I done made a verse, said foul shit
Tryna go fix it, fucked around and just made it worse
Yeah, I'm back, looking no worse for wear, got haters
Mad enough to rip off their and start punching the air
Panties so in a bunch that can't function
It's and Royce, fuck yeah, what a dysfunctional pair
So stop like a punk, get a pair
Take a pill and fall the fuck out, ya lunch in the chair

7: Mr. Porter]
Look I'm sick, better get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot just to that I can rap?
People ask where my is at
I say the liner notes, I done done all kinda crap
I am so much of a star,
That I can and piss on the red carpet
Look, my account's retarded
My card's got a helmet and a harness, hey
Meet but they all are harmless
At shows, my riders the largest
I need four of fried poultry carcass
And red chartered from Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act and start shit
I yell at em like, I'm the artist
In that you know the deal
If you wanna sick, we can all get ill
Look: measles, mumps, I you bitches
I don't need you chumps, got cheese and I need my chunks
Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get more dunks

8: Royce da 5'9"]
Now if attitude determines your latitude
This house that we hip hop, I'm in the attic, fool
A mic and two turntables, fit for the
Converted to a padded room, keep a street in fact
I call the mag a broom, you beef, seeing things
You musta had a bag of shrooms, I make a call
Make 'em a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets where the is high like Ruth's Chris
I'm from the city of true
Where the mayor went to jail for being a right after Proof split
Levels the of competitors Royce that
I'm drinking everyday til Hex Murda get his regular voice
Ras, I got ya, look at ya, blast from ya
From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder than black
I rap like committing suicide in the booth taking the with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in order to leave it
You have to ween me off that Bobbitt chopper'd
Knock a off, put your body between chalk
I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm swinging
I'm with the best alive, put something on it
Your sound's plain as a cheeseburger with on it

[Verse 9:
I'll do a hundred-yard dash to slash Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of from Nick Hogan's car crash
You may like the passenger for that, don't be a smart ass
Yeah, laugh while sit thinking that the hard part passed
You ain't seen til Leatherface flips, mayne
I'll cut ya fucking balls off homie, my off the chain
I chopped the bitch in half it, sawed off her legs
And the top half of the torso fucking crawled off and
I ain't seen shit like that since I went to Jack's
And took the Elephant Man's skull, it, and put it right back
Handed my dick to Bubbles while he sucked it and my nutsack
Gave him a while I fucked him right in his buttcrack
Nah, I ain't taking it back, faggot, fuck
I give a fuck about nothing so here's where you up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you wanna open up that
a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that