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 you go ahead and smoke that all to yourself dawg"
(verse)
he comes in his ice cream truck once again,
sellin bags of bullshit when its end?
haven little ass kids that know any better,
smoking bags of mud and calling it shredder.
you could eat ur just pop it in like popcorn,
because its alll seeds and its god wrong.
i chace fags like u u show me the bag,
for tryin to insult me with this fucking shwag.
i smoke crumble and get so i cant see,
come down and then i got your ass standing me,
a bag of barn floor like "tryin to smoke one up".
mr. sesame fucking seed ass shut up u punch,
for headache 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 seed theres somthing wrong yo bag,
its seed than its weed,
stems and sticks out to had.
a man tell me somthing what the fuck is wrong u?
"fuck is wrong you?"
bitch ass motherfucker 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.
you got a bag of jawbreakers mixed with dirt.
why is it that every time i my nose bleed and head hurt?
i aint buying ur shit no i swear,
need the stickey green with the bright white glare.
"keep steppen".
cant here.
dont need your blunts poppin burning 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 with my on sting.
im but what 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 the next straight up bullshit.
i pulled the car over and i his ass down,
for even trying to it even at a hundred a pound.
we rid the earth its wrong 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 man gets the shit and poured it from his suit.
and these ridin on spinning 24's,
and u ride around the on a unicycle,
sellin that rong to people who know right, though.
so get bitched slaped off it and cough up green bags,
im eatin at ur sack bitch u eatin that,
im beating ass for them headache bags,
its cause cause u people dont even like 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 need no sesame seed.
i need no stickes and hay.
u aint sell that shit that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little kids for school lunch change.
walking through the hood selling joints of bird seed grain.
voice all cloths really stink.
like a bond fire what u think.
and got the nerve to ask ive been.
far the fuck away from u and ur bag of friends.
no hard feelings but your sucks.
after breaking down an ounce i got 3 blunts.
so fuck u man stop sellin.
im not a fucking but im in the mood for tellin.
(chours)