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!
give mommie a hug, but be careful, I'm on the rag!
Mmm, cherry for everyone!
Haha, how was your

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

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

The outcast with a rash on my inner thigh
Tryin' to outrun these who all want me to die
Waitin' for some to die so maybe I can get a chance
Without a song about makin' dance
I hope all the clubs
'Cause so many trapped in one building
Should burn like white shows
And all our hope is to pose a
Try to change what rap music and I forget

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

*Dad? I need to $300
$300? What for,
Well, I got knocked 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 you that in the past
Oh yes, I
Now is different, now I'm playa-jaded
Most of these so called MCs is overrated and
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 wasn't to hit a woman.
But now that equal rights have been established, you 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 they all wanna be, ironic to me that that's what I get called
'cause I wanna jump up on a beat
So fuck all you assholes, past present and
Hope a young fires at me, misses and shoots ya
I wouldn't lie, man, I tell the to ya
There's no what this fuckin' town'll do to ya

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

Most of you assholes all think you
99% of you's are fake, ain't ya's?
That's why I hate
Verbal Heaven's gate a fuckin' hole in my head, insert a metal plate
I empty, kinda plastic
When this shit drops I'ma get my fuckin' ass
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 your fuckin' guts my record got bumped back
You went double-platinum, I double-hubcap
A rugrat, you'd be pissed too suckin' a freshly dubbed
What the fuck you do?

*Gee whillikers Dad, it ever get any easier?
Son, if one thing I've 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
Shit Town, America, folks. Get home safe,
ladies and gentlemen. Hold your tight,
and pretend not to notice their taste like your best friends dick.
'Cause in the end you're just a small piece of shit. Smile!
Until next time folks, it's Weerd Science. off.