Luyện nghe bài hát Westwood Freestyle 2010

[Verse 1: Mr.
to the ill world of Mr. P-O
Ay, the talk, B; I'm tryna see dough
If it ain't about bread, what we speak fo
If it ain't no lead, then it no beef, bro
You better get a leash your freak ho
Specialize in wood she Home Depot
I'm like Chico DeBarge, we
Roscoe P. in these bars, man
Amtrak, I'll break her back, man
It's Lauren, this ain't no damn Chaps
all Polo; I'm so pro though
You bird-crazy: El Pollo
Talking bout cheese and ain't no photo
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, 'bout that, bust a heater
Once I see him, maybe more like Justin
Leaving my rivals underground Skyzoo's, how I do
I have her laying in the street and
Butt naked with a bullet in his head like Erykah Badu
I find in being in a place
I'm wearing Gucci, mayne; getting White boy wasted
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 to you that ain't the prom
The MC that rhyme official with ref with a whistle
That ain't Young Money, I'mma diss you
If you rhyming a Mac with back of the Ac
Or perhaps you match my spectacular vernacular
You rhyming bottles with models, college for knowledge
Using the swagger, you're probably garbage
You thugs funny, comparing 5'9" to
You comparing Superman to Bugs

3: Eminem]
I'm like a Michael - Vick, psycho enough to stick
J. Fox in a microwave with a Rott
I might make a little Alizé with a of NyQuil
And ride a motorcycle bike right 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 off opiates, what an appropriate
Way to start off his he may just smart off to Dre
He may be hard to contain cause his is so hard to gauge
See Hannibal ate his and met Jason, gnawed off his leg
Amazing hard-on for razors and blades and anything
Even darts; it all plays a major part of his game
water won't ward him off, crucifixes won't do the trick
He's so sick, it's ridiculous; sawed the crazy off his brain
He's still insane, why's there on his carpet, mane
some crazy shit going on in Shady's apartment again

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

[Verse 5: da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches call Nickle the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don Goines and John
have you rewinding it four or five times
That landmine rhyme written with line
Step up in with the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. Gang will approach you and ya gun barrel to a Horseshoe
Only wit monsters, we the truth, monsters 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 tried to take blood, the bent, ask mom
Outta my mind if you can
Using Magic's without a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the going, dude, it's tremendous
If I come for ya blood, I ain't gon' be syringes

[Verse 6:
Newsflash, I'm trashed, them pills shoulda killed my ass
But they didn't, they just made me
It's like rebuilt my ass, like the Six Million Dollar Man after the crash
It's Aftermath, bitch And my milk glass is still
Yeah, tempt me! isn't enough
need to invent somewhere new to send me
As sick as I'm getting, stick me in a conventional oven
With a rotisserie setting and won't even me sweating
Shit, I done a verse, said some foul 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 hair and start punching the air
Panties so in a bunch they can't function
Shady and Royce, fuck yeah, what a dysfunctional pair
So stop like a punk, get a pair
Take a pill and the fuck out, spill ya lunch in the chair

7: Mr. Porter]
Look I'm sick, somebody get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot just to prove that I can
People ask my shine is at
I say check the liner notes, I done done all kinda
I am so much of a star,
That I can fart and piss on the red
Look, my bank account's
My card's got a helmet and a harness, hey
Meet demands but all are harmless
At shows, my riders the largest
I need four pounds of fried carcass
And red M&Ms; chartered Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and start
I just at em like, I'm the artist
In fact you know the deal
If you play sick, we can all get ill
measles, mumps, I made you bitches
I don't need you chumps, y'all got cheese and I need my
Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some more

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 seeing beef, things
You musta had a bag of shrooms, I make a call
'em fake a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets the stakes is high like Ruth's Chris
I'm from the of true shit
Where the mayor went to jail for a player right after Proof split
Levels the of competitors Royce that
I'm drinking everyday til Hex Murda get his regular back
Ras, I got ya, look at ya, blast from ya
From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo than black dickies
I rap like committing suicide in the taking the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in to leave it alone
You have to ween me off that Bobbitt chopper'd
Knock a weenie off, put body between chalk
I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm swinging
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 shard of glass from Nick Hogan's car
You may like the passenger for that, don't be a smart ass
Yeah, laugh while sit there thinking that the hard passed
You ain't seen pain til Leatherface flips,
cut ya fucking balls off homie, my saw's off the chain
I chopped the in half with it, sawed off her legs
And the top half of the torso fucking off and sang
I ain't seen shit like that since I to Mike Jack's
And took the Man's skull, fucked it, and put it right back
Handed my dick to Bubbles while he sucked it and licked my
Gave him a while I fucked him right in his buttcrack
Nah, I ain't taking it back, faggot, that
I give a fuck about nothing so here's where you up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you don't wanna up that
a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that