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 see dough
If it ain't bread, what we gon' speak fo
If it ain't no lead, it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a leash cause freak ho
in wood like she Home Depot
I'm like DeBarge, we stars
P. Coltrane in these bars, man
Amtrak, break her damn back, man
It's Lauren, this ain't no damn Chaps
It's all Polo; I'm so pro
You bird-crazy: El Pollo
bout cheese and this ain't no photo
Asking rings like the ho know Frodo
You get out of my house and shit
I think I threw up in my mouth a bit, I'm

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

[Verse 3:
I'm like a White - Vick, psycho enough to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave with a
I might make a little Alizé with a of NyQuil
And ride a motorcycle bike right through the side of my school
Satan's disciple a sniper rifle and a knife and a white diaper
to shit on you while I snipe you
So dope he off opiates, what an appropriate
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 blades and sharp
Even poisonous darts; it all plays a major part of his
water 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 still insane, why's there bloodstains on his carpet,
There's some crazy shit going on in Shady's apartment

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

[Verse 5: 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 five
That landmine rhyme written 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
ya said Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice
I can't even see the booth, I could fit Stevie's
I'm sick, I got the Desert flu
I'm rich, nigga, we don't need a cent, we Teflon
The tried to take blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my mind if you can
Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, tremendous
If I come for ya blood, I ain't gon' be using

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

[Verse 7: Mr.
Look I'm sick, somebody get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot just to prove I can rap?
People ask where my is at
I say check the liner notes, I done all kinda crap
I am so much of a star,
That I can fart and piss on the red
Look, my account's retarded
My debit card's got a and a harness, hey
Meet demands but all are harmless
At shows, my always the largest
I need four pounds of fried poultry
And red M&Ms; from Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and 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
measles, mumps, I made you bitches
I don't need you chumps, y'all got and I need my chunks
Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some more

8: Royce da 5'9"]
Now if your attitude 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 sweeper 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 fake a fall, my clique is too sick, say
In the streets where the stakes is high like Chris
I'm from the city of true
Where the mayor went to jail for being a player right Proof split
Levels the head of Royce that
I'm drinking everyday til Hex Murda get his regular voice
Ras, I got ya, look scared at ya, blast ya
From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder black dickies
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 weenie off, put your body between
I'm squeezing the nine like I'm swinging golf
I'm with the best rapper alive, put on it
Your sound's plain as a with nothing on it

[Verse 9:
I'll do a hundred-yard dash to slash Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of glass from Nick Hogan's car
You may look like the passenger for that, don't be a 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 saw's off the
I chopped the bitch in half with it, off her legs
And the top half of the torso crawled off and sang
I ain't seen like that since I went to Mike Jack's
And took the Elephant skull, fucked it, and put it right back
Handed my dick to Bubbles while he sucked it and my nutsack
Gave him a reach-around while I him right in his buttcrack
Nah, I ain't taking it back, faggot, that
I give a fuck about nothing so here's you fucked up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you wanna open up that
a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that