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 comes in his ice cream once again,
bags of bullshit when its gunna end?
haven little ass kids dont know any better,
smoking of mud dust and calling it shredder.
you eat ur weed just pop it in like popcorn,
its alll seeds and its god damn wrong.
i chace like u when u show me the bag,
for to insult me smarts with this fucking shwag.
i smoke crumble and get so i cant see,
come down and i got your ass standing before me,
with a bag of barn floor "tryin to smoke one up".
mr. fucking 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 with ur eyes swollen money gone but ur weed stolin.
"keep shit"
(chorus)
mr. sesame theres somthing wrong wich yo bag,
its more seed its weed,
more and sticks out to had.
a man me somthing what the fuck is wrong wich u?
"fuck is wich you?"
bitch ass motherfucker what the fuck is wich you?
"fuck is wronge you?"
(verse)
seed no bun for a bag,
instead of weed you should call it pebbles and crack.
what? you got a bag of jawbreakers with dirt.
why is it that every time i smoke my nose bleed and head
i buying ur shit no more i swear,
need the stickey icky green the bright white glare.
"keep steppen".
sell here.
dont your blunts poppin burning facial hair,
i would rather quit 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.
now ur ache same old thing,
pillow case all bloody my head on sting.
im aggravated but can i do?
weed man wanna be whats wich you?
(chours)

(verse)
i the artificial dope man selling bags of trick,
it was just crumb without the straight up bullshit.
i the car over and i beat his ass down,
for even trying to sell it even at a 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 shit look like a fucking bag of crispies.
my weed man gets the and poured it from his suit.
and rainforest ridin on spinning 24's,
and u ride around the on a unicycle,
sellin that rong to who dont know right, though.
so get bitched off it and cough up them green bags,
im eatin at ur sack bitch u eatin that,
im beating that ass for headache bags,
its cause u people dont even smoke like shagg.
"thats the fuck im sayin man. yall motherfuckers sell some 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 sell that shit that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little kids for there lunch change.
walking through the hood selling joints of bird seed grain.
voice all cloths really stink.
smelling 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 your sucks.
after down an ounce i only got 3 blunts.
so fuck u man stop sellin.
im not a fucking snitch but im in the for tellin.
(chours)