Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad

[Busta
Flip Mode, Funk Volume 3!

It's battle of the stars, spittin' bars
cars, never been to Mars
I'm the of Oz, down to the yellow brick road
Flip Mode! Yo, we got shit blowed
98 an' the gold
I'm a dissector, 15 on the
Yo owe me publishin' at Elektra
let the Ramp wretch ya, I'm-a catch ya
My bring the pressure, new trend setter
Watch me get cheddar, my life is gettin' better, WHA!

Sham]
Let me find out niggaz poppin' from the mouth
Post-ponin' some two macs spittin' from the holsters
You feel this you chose this
I split wigs the ocean, respect Moses
clips to spit, Flip Mode runnin' this shit
So to this, rollie on wrist
My platinum shit wit' sin
See me in the club by the door in
the lin, my waves spin tight, dark skin
Baby spittin' all in the mix on foul blends
Unhh...uhhh...

[Busta] What niggaz wanna do right now?
[Flip We wanna do it again, we wanna do it again
[Busta] I..say...what my Flip Mode unit do now?
[Flip Mode] We wanna do it again, again and again
[Busta] I...say...do that
Mode] I say do that shit
[Busta] that real live shit
[Flip Uh do that real live shit!
[Busta] You know we through shit
[Flip Mode] You know we comin' thru
[Busta] Ay-yo we here to shit!
[Flip Ay-yo we here to rule shit!

Digga]
What?! You like the hooptie that been test driven
I say fresh spittin', stricken and cess ridden, WHAT?
Watch 'mira' mack the
I cut a bitch clean like I was Latin Queens
Digga on the track watch the quadruple
Flex like I'm feelin' it, red my poo-poo!
Some shit with Fendi galoshes
On some wit' real estate where the Taj is
Fuckin' with the Outz on the
Had other click once but they reefer sucked
Well, to blaze watch how I swing
'cause I be mad like Max and merciless Ming

Star]
Interception, throw the microphone in my
Let me to these pussies raw dog wit' no protection
Strokin' dem until they bleed and they breathe
Run up in they click with ten theives
Ya'll niggaz is twat, my squad like SWAT
Spliff comin' through ya like it or not
High off pot, it hot like a coke plot
Refuse to lose, we the flock, I'm earnin' my props, WHAT!

[Lord Have
Ay-yo fuck dem and everything they love on Earth
Keep 'em runnin' from birth til' the jet black bubble Hurst
And run a stick turf double his purse
Hustlin' curse pastors who got guns in the church
Ones in the church...hmmm...rum in the
Dark, kissin' a worm they jugular burst
Speak rites then kick the dust on them first
Kemosabe! Your arms too to box with me
(For-geddit) shots wit' me (for-geddit)
now cry later, I kill beef like mad cow
My blaze up for nine acres...

[Busta
...get lucci, sport Gucci and stack
Tell me what's wrong got yo face bent up
Beats your head up even got yo mind messed up
Step up, I when bitches get fly and dress up
(HA! What!) You best believe I (HA!) the rest up
When you finish clean the mess up, up
Metaphor acid burn yo up
Who's the next up to be the to get the boxcutter X-er
Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, TURN Flex-uh!

[Funkmaster ...yeah, aaight? Busta Rhymes, Flip Mode Squad!
60 minutes! Flavor... Big shout to Monica for how
the flex...Yeah...what the deal.