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 you go ahead and smoke that all to yourself dawg"
(verse)
Here he in his ice cream truck once again,
sellin bags of when its gunna end?
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,
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 i cant see,
come down and then i got your ass before me,
a bag of barn floor like "tryin to smoke one up".
mr. sesame fucking seed ass up u need punch,
for headache hit that i took fuck off my jock before i rock ur block.
and u back to ur connect with ur eyes swollen money gone but ur weed aint stolin.
"keep shit"
(chorus)
mr. sesame seed theres somthing wich yo bag,
its more than its weed,
more and sticks out to had.
a man tell me somthing 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 jawbreakers with dirt.
why is it that every i smoke my nose bleed and head hurt?
i aint ur shit no more i swear,
need the stickey icky green with the bright glare.
"keep steppen".
cant here.
dont need blunts poppin burning facial hair,
i would rather quit smoking buy ur drama nightmares in my sleep about the seed man monster.
chaceing me serving me up.
weasle goes pop when the pipes lit up.
when now ur same old thing,
pillow case all with my head on sting.
im aggravated but can i do?
man wanna be whats wrong wich you?
(chours)

(verse)
i seen the dope man selling bags of trick,
it was just crumb without the next up bullshit.
i pulled the car and i beat his ass down,
for even trying to sell it at a hundred a pound.
we must rid the earth its it exests.
eather way we always end up his shit.
all u over rideing fockers all u is seeds.
and ur look like a fucking bag of rice crispies.
my weed man the shit and poured it from his suit.
and rainforest ridin on spinning 24's,
and u ride around the on a unicycle,
that rong to people who dont know right, though.
so get bitched slaped off it and cough up them bags,
im eatin at ur weed sack bitch u that,
im beating 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 stems and steeds and shit. if im gunna im gunna smoke some premium"
(chours)
(verse)
i dont no sesame seed.
i dont no stickes and hay.
u aint gunna that shit that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little for there school lunch change.
walking through the neighbor hood selling joints of seed grain.
voice all cloths really stink.
like a bond fire what u think.
and got the to ask where ive been.
far the away from u and ur bag of peanut friends.
no hard feelings but shit sucks.
after breaking an ounce i only got 3 blunts.
so fuck u weed man sellin.
im not a fucking but im in the mood for tellin.
(chours)