Luyện nghe bài hát Mrsesame Seed - Violent J And Abk

(intro)
"naw man not this fuk ass."
"dont let him it up."
"no man we tight you go and smoke that all to yourself dawg"
(verse)
he comes in his ice cream truck once again,
sellin bags of bullshit when its gunna
haven little ass kids that dont any better,
smoking of mud dust and calling it shredder.
you could eat ur just pop it in like popcorn,
its alll seeds and its god damn wrong.
i fags like u when u show me the bag,
for tryin to insult me smarts with this shwag.
i smoke crumble and get so high i see,
come down and then i got your ass before me,
with a bag of barn floor "tryin to smoke one up".
mr. sesame fucking ass shut up u need punch,
for every hit that i took fuck off my jock before i rock ur block.
and send u back to ur with ur eyes swollen money gone but ur weed aint stolin.
"keep shit"
(chorus)
mr. seed theres somthing wrong wich yo bag,
its more than its weed,
more and sticks out to had.
a man me somthing what the fuck is wrong wich u?
"fuck is wrong you?"
bitch ass motherfucker what the is wronge wich you?
"fuck is wronge you?"
(verse)
seed no bun for a bag,
instead of weed you should call it little and crack.
what? you got a bag of mixed with dirt.
why is it that every i smoke my nose bleed and head hurt?
i buying ur shit no more i swear,
need the stickey icky with the bright white glare.
"keep steppen".
cant here.
dont your blunts poppin burning facial hair,
i would rather smoking then buy ur drama nightmares in my sleep about the seed man monster.
chaceing me down me up.
seed weasle goes pop when the lit up.
when now ur ache old thing,
pillow all bloody with my head on sting.
im but what can i do?
weed man wanna be wrong wich you?
(chours)

(verse)
i seen the artificial dope man selling of trick,
it was just crumb the next straight up bullshit.
i pulled the car and i beat his ass down,
for even trying to sell it even at a a pound.
we must rid the its wrong it exests.
way we always end up smoking his shit.
all u over fockers all u gots is seeds.
and ur shit look like a fucking bag of crispies.
my weed man gets the shit and poured it his suit.
and these ridin on spinning 24's,
and u around the neighborhood on a unicycle,
sellin that to people who dont know right, though.
so get slaped off it and cough up them green bags,
im eatin at ur weed bitch u eatin that,
im beating ass for them headache bags,
its cause cause u people dont even smoke shagg.
"thats the fuck im sayin man. yall motherfuckers some drankey ass shit man. yall sell stems and steeds and shit. if im gunna smoke im gunna smoke some premium"
(chours)
(verse)
i dont need no seed.
i dont no stickes and hay.
u aint gunna that shit that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little kids for there school change.
walking through the hood selling joints of bird seed grain.
all raspy cloths really stink.
smelling like a fire what u think.
and got the nerve to ask ive been.
far the fuck away from u and ur bag of friends.
no feelings but your shit sucks.
after breaking down an i only got 3 blunts.
so u weed man stop sellin.
im not a fucking but im in the mood for tellin.
(chours)