Luyện nghe bài hát Basket Case

[Verse 1 -
Self, self-pity, self-self
Why the fuck is everybody else
I up and felt shitty
Matter fact I've the same all week
Let down on my last album on the shelf
And I I might need, help getting out of bed
I'm here and I keep, spinning on a thread
I'm my own critic, and I gotta write a album
But I keep hating on my self, it's I get obsessed
Cause I hate what I write, something tight
I be thinking too much what they gonna like
I don't got a lot of fans, I'm afraid I might
Let 'em down if what I make don't relate to them
If it don't, then ain't gonna buy my record
And if my second doesn't better than the last
I'mma owe the record cash
So it's hard to relax and raps
I be concentration sometimes
I look at what sayin' online
Somebody unfollow me and me out cause I ain't respond
I'm behind on my dead-line, and I got a life
To juggle no free-time
My callin' up, "what you got another deep song?
What is it time, your lady, or struggle trying to be something?"
Not in the mood to write a song
I'm giving myself a mental beat-down when I rap

- Rittz:]
I'm my own worst enemy the energy I a waste
Cause I use it battling myself I'm a basket case
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a case
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket
Lookin' at this glass of whiskey, wishin' I would pass
But I'm always wishing for the worst I'm a basket case
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a case
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket

2:]
I can have conversation rappers
I'm not an asshole to anyone unless I have a to be
But God forbid, if they had a buzz, or a name
Then I feel like we are equal, and these dudes always a feature for free
I try to network and 'em out, I just gave 'em a tweet
But I'm starting to wonder if the shoe was on the foot
Would these motherfuckers do the favor for me?
But, on the hand, people think I'm all famous
I ain't as paid as you think, when I tell 'em the is
To get me on a record are like it's too expensive just to pay me a G
And I'm starting to guilty
Cause I'm as the guy who never quit and never gave up his dreams
So I'm watching dudes tell me that I 'em motivation
Not to quit and they gon' try and do the thing as me but
Only difference is, I spent fifteen plus years studying my MCs
So I kept getting better some of y'all ain't got it, can't hear it, is blatant to me
And I don't want to hurt they feelings so I tell 'em that the music they makin' is tight
But image looks bad, and you suck, and you need to give up, and you're wasting your life
And all my fault... damn

3:]
They tell me that I need to tweet more, but I feel kinda immature, my thoughts online
Plus some that I got would probably hate me if they knew what type of shit that crossed my mind
I hate rap
Let me take that back, I just hate rappers for the most part
Even though I rap fast, I don't like when people try to impress me double-time
And they be swearing that they go so
don't really even say shit
Anyone can rhyme, thinking that drinking and
The song I'm making, figures dope, it ain't about the speed
You gotta make it sense
And did I mention I really hate fake fans?
I don't understand how one minute, everyone could be on your dick and say you hot
A year later, the same fan steady be talkin' shit 'bout the rapper, like they forgot
That's how the shit
First they love you, then they you, then they love you again, you gotta toughen your skin
This kinda hurts
This industry is dumb, dumber than the comments on YouTube
Sayin' I use the N-Word? (Hell Naw)
I don't rap that, I don't hang around white boys who act like that
I done too much, 'bout to snap, I'm mad
At the world, even I don't have my back when I rap it's like... damn