Luyện nghe bài hát The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real

Hey Mom, hey Dad, I'm
Look, Hunny, our little mistake!
give mommie a hug, but be careful, I'm on the rag!
Mmm, slushies for everyone!
Haha, how was your

For starters it ass 'cause my boss is a dickhead
God handed out and gave me the shit-end
Ridden with hoes, no kiddin' one's spittin'
Got two right on my neck, blister and on my dick-end
tickin', sickin' and stickin' these rhymes inside of a beat
When nobody's listen
White trash, No-Cash
Tried to weed but thugs slapped me and took my stash

*Son, what's with the
Golly fuck, Dad, prices are through the roof
and my just won't cut it anymore. I'm jonesin' for a hit!
Try whorin' your body, Mom does!*

The local outcast with a on my inner thigh
Tryin' to outrun these who all want me to die
Waitin' for some rappers to die so maybe I can get a
a song about makin' bitches dance
I hope all the clubs
'Cause so many assholes trapped in one
Should burn great white shows
And all our hope is to a threat
Try to change what rap music and I forget

The sitcom ain't real, what it's
Money's for gangstas not high dropouts
My never resembled an episode of Full House
You stay stuck in this town you'll scream your lungs come out
The ain't real, what it's about
Money's for gangstas not high dropouts
I get so frustrated the vein in my pops out
I'm more dead dead people buried and forgotten about

*Dad? I to borrow $300
$300? What for,
Well, I got Jenny up again!
Son, did I ever tell you your mother and the wire-hanger?*

Nope, none of that
America me like Yasur Arafat
You remember that
I feel obligated to tell you that in the
Oh yes, I
Now shit is different, now I'm
Most of these so called MCs is and outdated
New dawn, and a red one
The good rapper to me is a dead one

*Golly, Dad, is it ever O.K. to hit a
Son, in my day, it right to hit a woman.
But now equal rights have been established, you wallop that cunt!
And kick her while down!*

Nah, I'm just fuckin' around, I I sound bitter
I grew up in a town white kids say "What up, nigga?"
When all wanna be, it's ironic to me that that's what I get called
'cause I wanna jump up on a beat
So fuck all you assholes, present and future
Hope a young fires at me, misses and shoots ya
I lie, man, I tell the truth to ya
There's no tellin' what fuckin' town'll do to ya

The sitcom ain't real, what about
Money's for gangstas not high school
My life never resembled an episode of Full
You stay stuck in this town you'll scream your lungs come out
The sitcom ain't real, what about
Money's for gangstas not high dropouts
I get so the vein in my forehead pops out
I'm more dead than people buried and forgotten about

of you assholes all think you gangstas
99% of are fuckin' fake, ain't ya's?
why I hate ya's
Verbal Heaven's gate knock a fuckin' in my head, insert a metal plate
I empty, kinda plastic
When shit drops I'ma get my fuckin' ass kicked
But O.K. with me, I'd die for the cause
'Cause my purpose in life is to fuck with ya'lls
I hate your fuckin' guts 'cause my record got bumped
You went double-platinum, I went
A rugrat, you'd be too suckin' a freshly dubbed track
the fuck would you do?

*Gee whillikers Dad, does it get any easier?
Son, if there's one thing I've it's this:
all gonna live and die in this shitty, shitty town* (He's right)

And the funny thing is, he is right. I bid you
from Town, America, folks. Get home safe,
ladies and gentlemen. Hold your tight,
and pretend not to notice their mouths like your best friends dick.
'Cause in the end you're just a small piece of shit. Smile!
Until time folks, it's Weerd Science. Fuck off.