Luyện nghe bài hát Westwood Freestyle 2010

[Verse 1: Mr.
to the ill world of Mr. P-O
Ay, keep the talk, B; I'm tryna see
If it ain't bread, what we gon' speak fo
If it ain't no lead, then it no beef, bro
You better get a leash cause 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
Ralph Lauren, this ain't no damn Chaps
It's all Polo; I'm so pro
You bird-crazy: El Loco
Talking bout and this ain't no photo
Asking bout rings 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, talking 'bout that, bust a
Once I see him, maybe like Justin Bieber
Leaving my underground 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 irony in being in a
Where I'm wearing Gucci, getting White boy wasted
I tell a nigga, break bread or lead
I'm get rid of this weight like K-Fed
Me and Denaun got a bond
We like that once-in-a-lifetime thang to you that ain't the
The next MC that official with ref with a whistle
That ain't Young Money, I'mma definitely you
If you packing 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 garbage
You funny, comparing 5'9" to anybody
You Superman to Bugs Bunny

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

4: Mr. Porter]
Okay, it's back to the blocks, yay like the old days
Superman on the beat, I my whole state
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 with anthrax like Osama 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, small ticker, tack
I make 'em all cry with big and raw sack
The potblood of to return a raw rap
I'm the best, mane: Eli stance

5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all bitches should Nickle the Don Bishop
A poet, a mixer of Don and John Grisham
Flow'll you rewinding it four or five times
That landmine rhyme with porcupine line
Step up in here the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. Gang approach you and bend 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 see the booth, I could fit Stevie's shoe
I'm sick, I got the Desert flu
I'm rich, nigga, we don't need a cent, we Teflon
The tried to take blood, the needle bent, ask mom
Outta my if you can imagine
Using Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm
Got the streets going, dude, tremendous
If I come for ya blood, I ain't be using syringes

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

[Verse 7: Mr.
Look I'm sick, somebody better get the
Who I shoot just to prove that I can rap?
People ask my shine is at
I say check the notes, I done done all kinda crap
I am so much of a star,
That I can and piss on the red carpet
Look, my account's retarded
My debit card's got a and a harness, hey
Meet demands but all are harmless
At shows, my riders the largest
I four pounds of fried poultry carcass
And red M&Ms; chartered Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and shit
I just yell at em like, I'm the
In fact 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
Hurry up, so I can go to rubber and get some more dunks

[Verse 8: da 5'9"]
Now if your attitude your latitude
This house that we call hip hop, I'm in the attic,
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 is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets the stakes is high like Ruth's Chris
I'm from the of true shit
Where the mayor went to jail for being a right after 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
From a block away; ask Tricky, I'm niggie
I'm mo than black dickies
I rap like committing suicide in the booth the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes, in order to it alone
You have to ween me off that Lorena chopper'd
Knock a weenie off, put body between chalk
I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm golf
I'm with the best rapper alive, put on it
Your sound's plain as a with nothing on it

[Verse 9:
do a hundred-yard dash just to slash Kim Kardash in the ass
With a shard of glass from Nick Hogan's car
You may look the passenger for that, don't be a smart ass
Yeah, laugh while sit there that the hard part passed
You ain't pain til Leatherface flips, mayne
cut ya fucking balls off homie, my saw's off the chain
I chopped the bitch in half with it, off her legs
And the top half of the torso fucking off and sang
I ain't seen shit that since I went to Mike Jack's
And took the Elephant Man's skull, fucked it, and put it back
my dick 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 it back, faggot, fuck that
I give a fuck about so here's where you fucked up at
Don't go touching that can, man; you don't wanna up that
Wait a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut