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 about bread, what we gon' speak fo
If it ain't no lead, it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a cause your freak ho
Specialize in like she Home Depot
I'm like DeBarge, we stars
Roscoe P. in these bars, man
Amtrak, I'll her damn back, man
It's Ralph Lauren, ain't no damn Chaps
It's all Polo; I'm so pro
You El Pollo Loco
Talking bout and this ain't no photo
Asking bout rings like the ho know
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, talking 'bout that, bust a
Once I see him, maybe more Justin Bieber
Leaving my rivals underground Skyzoo's, how I do
I have her laying in the and bleeding
Butt naked a bullet in his muthafucking head like Erykah Badu
I find irony in being in a
Where I'm Gucci, mayne; getting White boy wasted
I a nigga, break bread or take lead
I'm tryna get rid of this like K-Fed
Me and Denaun got a gangsta
We like that once-in-a-lifetime to you that ain't the prom
The next MC that rhyme official 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 bottles with models, college for knowledge
the word swagger, you're probably garbage
You funny, comparing 5'9" to anybody
You comparing Superman to Bugs

[Verse 3:
I'm like a White Michael - Vick, enough to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave a Rott
I might make a little Alizé a side 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 shit on you I snipe you
So dope he gets off opiates, an appropriate
Way to off his day; he may just smart off to Dre
He may be hard to cause his rage is so hard to gauge
See Hannibal ate his and met Jason, gnawed off his leg
hard-on for razors and blades and anything sharp
Even poisonous darts; it all plays a major part of his
Holy water won't ward him off, crucifixes won't do the
He's so sick, it's ridiculous; sawed the crazy part off his
He's still insane, why's bloodstains on his carpet, mane
There's some shit going on in Shady's apartment again

4: Mr. Porter]
Okay, it's 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, O'Shea Jackson! Okay
A bit of this twisted out with Obama in it
Mr. Porter back with anthrax like sent him
Bitch, I'm all that; I the girls crazy
They gotta at Rorschachs to get they thoughts back
I ain't a small fry, 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 stance

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches should call the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don and John Grisham
Flow'll you rewinding it four or five 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, monsters pop up on ya
Like ya said Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,
I can't even see the booth, I fit Stevie's shoe
I'm sick, I got the Eagle flu
I'm rich, lil' nigga, we need a cent, we Teflon
The doctor tried to take blood, the bent, ask mom
Outta my mind if you can
Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, it's
If I come for ya blood, I gon' be using syringes

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

7: Mr. Porter]
Look I'm sick, somebody better get the
Who I gotta shoot just to prove that I can
ask where my shine 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 bank retarded
My debit got a helmet and a harness, hey
Meet demands but all are harmless
At shows, my always the largest
I need four of fried poultry carcass
And red M&Ms; chartered from
Look, and if you try to act and start shit
I just at em like, I'm the artist
In fact that you the deal
If you wanna sick, we can all get ill
measles, mumps, I made you bitches
I don't you chumps, y'all got cheese and I need my chunks
Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some dunks

[Verse 8: da 5'9"]
Now if your attitude determines your
house 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 seeing beef, things
You musta had yourself a bag of shrooms, I a call
Make 'em a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets where the is high like Ruth's Chris
I'm from the city of true
Where the mayor went to for being a player right after Proof split
the head of competitors Royce that
I'm everyday til Hex Murda get his regular voice back
Ras, I got ya, scared at ya, blast from ya
From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm mo hooder than black
I rap like committing in the booth taking the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in order to it alone
You to ween me off that Lorena Bobbitt chopper'd
Knock a weenie off, put your between chalk
I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm swinging
I'm with the best rapper alive, put on it
sound's plain as a cheeseburger with nothing on it

[Verse 9:
I'll do a hundred-yard just to slash Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of glass Nick Hogan's car crash
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 pain til Leatherface flips,
I'll cut ya balls off homie, my saw's off the chain
I the bitch in half with it, sawed off her legs
And the top half of the torso fucking crawled off and
I ain't seen shit like that 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 licked my
Gave him a reach-around while I him right in his buttcrack
Nah, I ain't it back, faggot, fuck that
I give a fuck nothing so here's where you fucked up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you don't open up that
a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that