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 gon' fo
If it ain't no lead, it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a leash cause freak ho
Specialize in wood 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, this no damn Chaps
It's all Polo; I'm so pro
You bird-crazy: El Pollo
Talking bout cheese and this ain't no
Asking bout rings like the ho know
You better get out of my house and
I I threw up in my mouth a bit, I'm sick

2: Royce 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 her laying in the street and bleeding
Butt naked with a bullet in his muthafucking head Erykah Badu
I irony in being in a place
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 got a gangsta bond
We like that once-in-a-lifetime thang to you that the prom
The MC that rhyme 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 perhaps you can't match my vernacular
You still rhyming bottles with models, for knowledge
Using the swagger, you're probably garbage
You funny, comparing 5'9" to anybody
You comparing to Bugs Bunny

[Verse 3:
I'm like a Michael - Vick, psycho enough to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave with a
I might make a little Alizé a side of NyQuil
And ride a motorcycle bike through the side of my high school
Satan's with a sniper rifle and a knife and a white diaper
Liable to shit on you 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 his rage is so hard to gauge
See Hannibal ate his face and met Jason, off his leg
Amazing hard-on for razors and blades and anything
poisonous darts; it all plays 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; the crazy part off his brain
He's insane, why's there bloodstains on his carpet, mane
There's crazy shit going on in Shady's apartment again

4: Mr. Porter]
Okay, it's back to the blocks, yay like the old days
on the beat, I carry my whole state
You wooden legs to a house: you hold weight
Oh shit, O'Shea Jackson! Okay
A little bit of this out with Obama in it
Mr. Porter with anthrax like Osama sent him
Bitch, I'm all that; I drive the girls
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 of science to return a raw rap
I'm the best, mane: Eli Porter

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches should Nickle the Don Bishop
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. Gang will approach you and bend ya gun 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 fit Stevie's shoe
I'm sick, I got the Desert flu
I'm rich, lil' nigga, we need a cent, we Teflon
The doctor to take blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my if you can imagine
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 using

[Verse 6:
Newsflash, I'm still trashed, pills shoulda 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
It's Aftermath, bitch And my glass is still half-empty
Yeah, tempt me! isn't enough
They need to somewhere new to send me
As sick as I'm getting, they'll stick me in a conventional
With a rotisserie and won't even notice me sweating
Shit, I done made a verse, said some foul
Tryna go fix it, fucked around and just made it worse
Yeah, I'm back, looking no worse for wear, got these
Mad enough to rip off their hair and start the air
Panties so in a bunch that can't function
It's Shady and Royce, yeah, what a dysfunctional pair
So stop like a punk, get a pair
Take a pill and fall the fuck out, spill ya in the chair

[Verse 7: Mr.
Look I'm sick, better get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot just to prove that I can
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 and piss on the red carpet
Look, my bank retarded
My debit got a helmet and a harness, hey
Meet demands but they all are
At shows, my riders always the
I need four of fried poultry carcass
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 fact you know the deal
If you wanna sick, we can all get ill
Look: measles, mumps, I you bitches
I don't need you chumps, y'all got cheese and I my chunks
Hurry up, so I can go to burn and get some more dunks

[Verse 8: da 5'9"]
Now if your attitude determines your
This house 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 street sweeper in
I call the mag a broom, you beef, seeing 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 shit
Where the mayor went to jail for being a player right after Proof
Levels the head of competitors Royce
I'm drinking til Hex Murda get his regular voice back
Ras, I got ya, look at ya, blast from ya
From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder black dickies
I rap like suicide in the booth taking the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in order to leave it
You have to me off that Lorena Bobbitt chopper'd
Knock a off, put your body between chalk
I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm swinging
I'm with the 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 to slash Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of glass from Hogan's car crash
You may look like the passenger for that, be a smart ass
Yeah, laugh while sit there thinking the hard part passed
You ain't seen pain til Leatherface flips,
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 dick to while he sucked it and licked my nutsack
him a reach-around while I fucked him right in his buttcrack
Nah, I ain't it back, faggot, fuck that
I give a fuck about so here's where you fucked up at
go touching that can, man; you don't wanna open up that
Wait a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut