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 no lead, then it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a leash your freak ho
Specialize in wood like she Home
I'm Chico DeBarge, we stars
P. Coltrane in these bars, man
Amtrak, break her damn back, man
It's Ralph Lauren, ain't no damn Chaps
It's all Polo; I'm so pro
You bird-crazy: El Loco
Talking bout cheese and ain't no photo
Asking rings like the ho know Frodo
You better get out of my house and
I think I up in my mouth a bit, I'm sick

[Verse 2: da 5'9"]
Niggas be lying, talking 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
naked with a bullet in his muthafucking 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 weight like K-Fed
Me and Denaun got a gangsta
We like that once-in-a-lifetime thang to you that the prom
The next MC that official with ref with a whistle
That ain't Young Money, definitely diss you
If you rhyming a Mac with back of the Ac
Or you can't match my spectacular vernacular
You still rhyming bottles with models, college for
Using the word swagger, you're garbage
You thugs funny, comparing 5'9" to
You comparing to Bugs Bunny

3: Eminem]
I'm like a White Michael - Vick, psycho to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave with a
I might make a little with a side of NyQuil
And ride a motorcycle bike right through the side of my school
Satan's disciple with a sniper rifle and a knife and a diaper
Liable to shit on you while I you
So dope he gets off opiates, what an
Way to start off his day; he may smart off to Dre
He may be hard to contain cause his is so hard to gauge
See ate his face and met Jason, gnawed off his leg
Amazing hard-on for and blades and anything sharp
Even poisonous darts; it all a major part of his game
Holy water won't ward him off, crucifixes won't do the
He's so sick, it's ridiculous; sawed the crazy off his brain
He's still insane, why's there bloodstains on his carpet,
There's some crazy shit going on in apartment again

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

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches call Nickle the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don and John Grisham
Flow'll have you rewinding it or five times
That landmine rhyme written with line
up in here with the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. Gang will approach you and ya gun barrel to a Horseshoe
fuck wit monsters, we the truth, monsters will pop up on ya
Like ya said Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,
I can't even see the booth, I could fit Stevie's
I'm sick, I got the Eagle flu
I'm rich, lil' nigga, we don't a cent, we Teflon
The tried to take blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my if you can imagine
Using Magic's johnson a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, it's
If I come for ya blood, I ain't be using syringes

6: Eminem]
Newsflash, I'm still trashed, them shoulda killed my ass
But didn't, they just made 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 half-empty
Yeah, tempt me! Hell enough
They 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 notice me sweating
Shit, I done a verse, said some foul shit
Tryna go back fix it, fucked around and made it worse
Yeah, I'm back, looking no worse for wear, got these
Mad enough to rip off hair and start punching the air
Panties so in a bunch they can't function
It's Shady and Royce, fuck yeah, a dysfunctional pair
So stop acting a punk, get a pair
Take a pill and fall the out, spill ya lunch in the chair

[Verse 7: Mr.
Look I'm sick, better get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot 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 fart and piss on the red
Look, my account's retarded
My debit 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 chartered from Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and shit
I just at em like, I'm the artist
In that you know the deal
If you play 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
Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some dunks

8: Royce da 5'9"]
Now if attitude determines your latitude
This that we call 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 like Ruth's Chris
I'm the city of true shit
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 back
Ras, I got ya, look scared at ya, from ya
a block away; ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo than black dickies
I rap like committing suicide in the booth taking the with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in to leave it alone
You have to ween me off that Lorena chopper'd
Knock a weenie off, put your body 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 hundred-yard dash just to Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of glass from Hogan's car crash
You may look like the for that, don't be a smart ass
Yeah, laugh sit there thinking that the hard part passed
You ain't seen pain til flips, mayne
I'll cut ya fucking balls off homie, my off the chain
I chopped the bitch in half with it, off her legs
And the top of the torso fucking crawled off and sang
I ain't seen shit like since I went to Mike Jack's
And took the Elephant Man's skull, fucked it, and put it back
Handed my to Bubbles while he sucked it and licked my nutsack
Gave him a reach-around while I fucked him right in his
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 wanna open up that
Wait a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut