Luyện nghe bài hát Westwood Freestyle 2010

[Verse 1: Mr.
Welcome to the ill of Mr. P-O
Ay, the talk, B; I'm tryna see dough
If it ain't about bread, we gon' speak fo
If it ain't no lead, then it no beef, bro
You better get a leash your freak ho
Specialize in like she Home Depot
I'm Chico DeBarge, we stars
Roscoe P. 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 ain't no photo
Asking bout like the ho know Frodo
You better get out of my and shit
I think I up in my mouth a bit, I'm sick

2: Royce da 5'9"]
Niggas be lying, 'bout that, bust a heater
I see him, maybe more like Justin Bieber
Leaving my rivals like Skyzoo's, how I do
I have her in the street and bleeding
Butt naked with a bullet in his muthafucking head Erykah Badu
I find irony in being in a
I'm wearing Gucci, mayne; getting White boy wasted
I tell a nigga, break bread or take
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 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 you can't match my spectacular vernacular
You still rhyming bottles models, college for knowledge
Using the word swagger, you're probably
You thugs funny, 5'9" to anybody
You Superman to Bugs Bunny

3: Eminem]
I'm like a White Michael - Vick, psycho enough to
Michael J. Fox in a microwave a Rott
I might make a little Alizé with a side of
And ride a motorcycle bike right through the side of my school
disciple with a sniper rifle and a knife and a white diaper
Liable to shit on you I snipe you
So dope he gets off opiates, what an
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 sharp
Even poisonous darts; it all plays a major of his game
Holy water 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 Shady's again

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

[Verse 5: da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches should call Nickle the Don
A poet, a mixer of Don Goines and Grisham
Flow'll have you rewinding it four or times
landmine rhyme written with porcupine line
Step up in with the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. will 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 doctor tried to take blood, the bent, ask mom
my mind if you can imagine
Using Magic's johnson a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, it's
If I for ya blood, I ain't gon' be using syringes

[Verse 6:
Newsflash, I'm still trashed, pills shoulda killed my ass
But they didn't, they made me stronger
It's like they rebuilt my ass, like the Six Million Dollar Man the crash
It's Aftermath, bitch And my milk glass is half-empty
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 setting and won't even notice me sweating
Shit, I done made a verse, 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 hair and start punching the air
Panties so in a that they 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 out, spill ya lunch in the chair

7: Mr. Porter]
Look I'm sick, somebody get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta just to prove that 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 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 chartered from Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and start
I just yell at em like, I'm the
In that you know the deal
If you wanna sick, we can all get ill
measles, mumps, I made 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 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 yourself a bag of shrooms, I make a
'em fake a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets where the stakes is like Ruth's Chris
I'm the city of true shit
the mayor went to jail for being a player right after Proof split
Levels the head of Royce that
I'm drinking til Hex Murda get his regular voice back
Ras, I got ya, scared at ya, blast from ya
a block away; ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder than black
I rap like committing suicide in the booth the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in to leave it alone
You have to ween me off that Lorena Bobbitt
Knock a weenie off, put body between chalk
I'm the nine iron like I'm swinging golf
I'm with the rapper alive, put something on it
Your plain as a cheeseburger with nothing on it

[Verse 9:
I'll do a hundred-yard dash just to Kim Kardash in the ass
With a of glass from Nick Hogan's car crash
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 til Leatherface flips, mayne
I'll cut ya fucking balls off homie, my saw's off the
I chopped the bitch in half it, sawed off her legs
And the top half of the torso fucking off and sang
I ain't shit like that since I went to Mike Jack's
And took the Elephant Man's skull, fucked it, and put it right
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 taking it back, faggot, fuck that
I give a fuck about nothing so where you fucked up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you don't wanna open up
a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that