Luyện nghe bài hát WND

It's summer, and I'm chillin on my with my little crew
Just like the videos, like all the little rappers do
We voice love to the heads we that walk past
and smilin, Livin out of a shot glass
And I talk fast when it comes to
Hey baby I'm just a nut tryin to fuck a
Maybe we shut the world up
Let some into your life
she hypes an eyebrow up, like
"What do you mean?" and I buggin like
"If I was to fallowed you would you keep me
you feed me, would you pet me
Would I fuck you till sleepy?"
She said I'm creepy, and off
Too late, I already got off on the fact you stopped
You knew I'd treat you like an
You knew I was a rapper, you it was the trend
For us rapper men to disrespect women of friends
Nonetheless; here that kid Sean that I used to be cool with
Went to with, now this kid is talkin fool shit
Gettin supper touchy with his lips
how I his bitch supposedly
What the fuck is supposed to be
got nuts, hes alone, I'm wit crew
Now tell me the fuck I'm supposed to do
I spew. (???) makes believers of cartoons
And I to know your bitch sleeps in until the afternoon
Honestly, my man, you bother me
Everybody bleeds, now go and ask your seed who his father be

I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"

Now Sean kicked my ass, I ain't lie, ain't gonna laugh
It fun, but fuck 'em, I'ma get my gun
Shit like that done in the world of rap
If they pushin on ya vibe, you just a pussy if it
So I sprint up flights, Get into the feet whipe on the door
dirt and blood on the rug, and the wood floor
Couldn't believe my squad stood there and watched
Word to God, boy tellin me to blame it on my cock
I'm amped, and I'ma shoot every out there
I'm ill, and I'm prove that shit when I get back downstairs
the bedroom, my passion aimed at the closet
Visualizing the top shelf, thats where the is
I the top up, enough to fit my hand in
into the box in a frenzy, realizing that it's empty
Hand rests in the box, head in an open stun
Then I remember, I don't own a gun

"What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What, (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What, What, Kid What"
I'm like "What, What, Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What, What, What"

Writers Die
Never Die
Writers Die
Never Die