Luyện nghe bài hát Mrsesame Seed - Violent J And Abk

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

(verse)
i the artificial dope man selling bags of trick,
it was just crumb without the 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.
eather way we end up smoking his shit.
all u rideing fockers all u gots is seeds.
and ur look like a fucking bag of rice crispies.
my weed man gets the shit and poured it his suit.
and these rainforest on spinning 24's,
and u ride the neighborhood on a unicycle,
sellin that rong to people who dont right, though.
so get bitched slaped off it and cough up them bags,
im eatin at ur weed bitch u eatin that,
im that ass for them headache bags,
its cause cause u dont even smoke like shagg.
"thats the fuck im sayin man. yall motherfuckers sell some drankey ass shit man. yall sell and steeds and shit. if im gunna smoke im gunna smoke some premium"
(chours)
(verse)
i dont need no seed.
i need no stickes and hay.
u gunna sell that shit that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little for there school lunch change.
through the neighbor hood selling joints of bird seed grain.
voice all raspy really stink.
smelling like a bond what u think.
and got the to ask where ive been.
far the fuck from u and ur bag of peanut friends.
no hard feelings but your sucks.
after down an ounce i only got 3 blunts.
so fuck u man stop sellin.
im not a snitch but im in the mood for tellin.
(chours)