Luyện nghe bài hát Basket Case

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

[Chorus -
I'm my own worst enemy the I have's a waste
I use it battling myself cause I'm a basket case
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket
(Da, da, da, da) I'm a basket
at this glass of whiskey, wishin' I would pass away
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 case

2:]
I can conversation with rappers
I'm not an to anyone unless I have a reason to be
But God forbid, if ever had a buzz, or a name
I feel like we are equal, and these dudes always want a feature for free
I try to network and help 'em out, I just 'em a tweet
But I'm starting to if the shoe was on the other foot
Would these motherfuckers do the same for me?
But, on the other hand, people I'm all famous
I ain't as paid as you think, when I 'em the price is
To get me on a record they are like it's too just to pay me a G
And I'm to feel guilty
Cause I'm known as the guy who never and never gave up his dreams
So I'm watching dudes tell me I gave 'em motivation
Not to quit and gon' try and do the same thing as me but
Only difference is, I spent fifteen plus years studying my MCs
So I kept getting better of y'all ain't got it, can't hear it, what is blatant to me
And I don't want to hurt they so I tell 'em that the music that 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 kinda immature, typing my thoughts online
Plus fans that I got would probably hate me if they knew what type of shit that crossed my mind
Cause I rap
Let me take that back, I just hate whack rappers for the most
Even though I rap fast, I don't like when people try to impress me with
And be swearing that they go so hard
They don't really say shit
can rhyme, thinking that drinking and synching
The song I'm making, figures dope, it ain't about the speed
You gotta it make sense
And did I mention that I really fake fans?
I don't understand how one minute, everyone could be on dick and they say you hot
A later, the same fan steady be talkin' shit 'bout the rapper, actin' like they forgot
how the shit works
First they love you, they hate you, then they love you again, you gotta toughen your skin
This kinda shit
This music industry is dumb, than the comments on YouTube
Sayin' I use the N-Word? (Hell Naw)
I don't rap like that, I don't hang around white boys who act that
I done too much, 'bout to snap, I'm mad
At the world, I don't really have my back when I rap it's like... damn