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 sticks and me the shit-end
with hoes, no kiddin' like one's spittin'
Got two right on my neck, three and on my dick-end
Clock tickin', sickin' and stickin' these inside of a beat
really nobody's listen
White trash, No-Cash
Tried to sell weed but thugs slapped me and took my

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

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

The sitcom real, what it's 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 'til your come out
The sitcom ain't real, what it's
Money's for gangstas not high school
I get so frustrated the vein in my pops out
I'm more dead than dead buried and forgotten about

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

Clout? Nope, of that
America hates me Yasur Arafat
You fuckers remember
I feel obligated to you that in the past
Oh yes, I
Now shit is different, now I'm
Most of so called MCs is overrated and outdated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 equal rights have established, you wallop that cunt!
And kick her she's 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's what I get called
Just 'cause I jump up on a beat
So all you assholes, past present and future
Hope a young thug at me, misses and shoots ya
I wouldn't lie, man, I the truth to ya
There's no tellin' this fuckin' town'll do to ya

The sitcom ain't real, what about
Money's for gangstas not school dropouts
My life resembled an episode of Full House
You stay stuck in this town you'll 'til your lungs come out
The sitcom ain't real, what it's
Money's for gangstas not high school
I get so the vein in my forehead pops out
I'm more dead dead people buried and forgotten about

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

*Gee Dad, does it ever 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 is, he is right. I bid you farewell
Shit Town, America, folks. Get home safe,
ladies and gentlemen. Hold girlfriends tight,
and pretend not to notice their mouths taste like your friends dick.
'Cause in the end you're just a town piece of shit. Smile!
Until next folks, it's Weerd Science. Fuck off.