Luyện nghe bài hát Westwood Freestyle 2010

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

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

[Verse 3:
I'm like a White Michael - Vick, psycho to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave with a
I might make a little Alizé a side of NyQuil
And a motorcycle bike right through the side of my high school
Satan's disciple with a sniper and a knife and a white diaper
Liable to on you while I snipe you
So dope he gets off opiates, what an
Way to off his day; he may just smart off to Dre
He may be hard to contain cause his rage is so hard to
See Hannibal ate his face and met Jason, off his leg
Amazing hard-on for razors and and anything sharp
Even poisonous darts; it all plays a part of his game
Holy water won't ward him off, crucifixes do the trick
He's so sick, it's sawed the crazy part off his brain
He's still insane, why's 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 can't weight
Oh shit, O'Shea Jackson! Okay
A little bit of this twisted out Obama in it
Mr. Porter back with anthrax like sent him
Bitch, I'm all that; I the girls crazy
They gotta look at Rorschachs to get they back
I a small fry, small ticker, small tack
I make 'em all cry big dick and raw sack
The potblood of to return a raw rap
I'm the best, Eli Porter stance

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches call Nickle the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don Goines and Grisham
Flow'll have you rewinding it four or times
That landmine rhyme written with porcupine
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, nigga, we don't need a cent, we Teflon
The doctor to take blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my if you can imagine
Using Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm
Got the going, dude, it's tremendous
If I come for ya blood, I ain't be using syringes

6: Eminem]
Newsflash, I'm trashed, them pills shoulda killed my ass
But they didn't, they just made me
It's like they rebuilt my ass, like the Six Million Man after the crash
It's Aftermath, And my milk glass is still half-empty
Yeah, me! Hell isn't enough
need to invent somewhere new to send me
As sick as I'm getting, they'll me in a conventional oven
With a rotisserie setting and even notice me sweating
Shit, I made a verse, said some foul shit
go back 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 hair and start the air
Panties so in a bunch that they can't
It's Shady and Royce, yeah, what a dysfunctional pair
So stop acting a punk, get a pair
Take a and fall the fuck out, spill ya lunch in the chair

7: Mr. Porter]
Look I'm sick, somebody better get the
Who I gotta just to prove that I can rap?
People ask where my is at
I say check the liner notes, I done done all kinda
I am so much of a star,
That I can and piss on the red carpet
Look, my bank account's
My debit got a helmet and a harness, hey
Meet demands but all are harmless
At shows, my always the largest
I need four pounds of fried carcass
And red M&Ms; chartered from
Look, and if you try to act dumb and start
I yell at em like, I'm the artist
In fact that you the deal
If you play sick, we can all get ill
Look: measles, mumps, I you bitches
I need you chumps, y'all got cheese and I need my chunks
up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some more dunks

[Verse 8: da 5'9"]
Now if your determines your latitude
This house we call hip hop, I'm in the attic, fool
A mic and two turntables, fit for the
Converted to a room, keep a street sweeper in fact
I call the mag a broom, you seeing beef, things
You musta had yourself a bag of shrooms, I make a
Make 'em a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets the stakes is high like Ruth's Chris
I'm from the city of true
Where the mayor went to for being a player 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 scared at ya, from ya
a block away; ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder than dickies
I rap committing suicide in the booth taking the track with me
in my chromosomes, in order to leave it alone
You have to ween me off that Lorena Bobbitt
Knock a weenie off, put your body between
I'm squeezing the nine like I'm swinging golf
I'm the best rapper alive, put something on it
sound's plain as a cheeseburger with nothing on it

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