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

Hey Mom, hey Dad, I'm
Look, Hunny, it's our mistake!
Come give a hug, but be careful, I'm on the rag!
Mmm, slushies for everyone!
Haha, how was day?*

For starters it sucked ass 'cause my is a dickhead
God handed out sticks and me the shit-end
Ridden with hoes, no kiddin' like spittin'
Got two on my neck, three 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 sell weed but thugs slapped me and my stash

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

The local outcast with a on my inner thigh
Tryin' to these bitches who all want me to die
Waitin' for some to die so maybe I can get a chance
Without a song about makin' bitches
I hope all the close
'Cause so assholes trapped in one building
Should burn like great white
And all our hope is to a threat
Try to change rap music hopes and I forget

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

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

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of these so called MCs is overrated and outdated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

*Golly, Dad, is it O.K. to hit a woman?
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 around, I know I sound bitter
I grew up in a town white kids say "What up, nigga?"
When they all wanna be, it's ironic to me that that's I get called
Just 'cause I wanna up on a beat
So all you assholes, past present and future
Hope a young fires at me, misses and shoots ya
I lie, man, I tell the truth to ya
no tellin' what this fuckin' town'll do to ya

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

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

*Gee Dad, does it ever get any easier?
Son, if there's one thing learned it's this:
We're all gonna and die in this shitty, shitty town* (He's right)

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