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

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

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

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

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

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

Clout? Nope, none of
hates me like Yasur Arafat
You fuckers that
I feel obligated to tell you that in the
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of these so called MCs is overrated and outdated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 rapper to me is a dead one

*Golly, Dad, is it O.K. to hit a woman?
Son, in my day, it wasn't to hit a woman.
But now that 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 where white say "What up, nigga?"
When they all wanna be, it's ironic to me that's what I get called
Just 'cause I wanna jump up on a
So all you assholes, past present and future
Hope a thug fires at me, misses and shoots ya
I wouldn't lie, man, I the truth to ya
no tellin' what this fuckin' town'll do to ya

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

Most of you assholes all you gangstas
99% of are fuckin' fake, ain't ya's?
That's why I hate
Verbal Heaven's gate knock a fuckin' in my head, insert a metal plate
I feel empty, kinda
When this 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 with
I hate your fuckin' guts 'cause my got bumped back
You went double-platinum, I went
A rugrat, be pissed too suckin' a freshly dubbed track
What the fuck you do?

*Gee whillikers Dad, does it get any easier?
Son, if there's one thing I've learned this:
We're all gonna live and die in this shitty, shitty (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 town of shit. Smile!
next time folks, it's Weerd Science. Fuck off.