Luyện nghe bài hát WND

It's summer, and I'm chillin on my steps my little crew
Just like the videos, just like all the little do
We voice love to the heads we know that past
and smilin, Livin out of a shot glass
And I talk when it comes to girls
Hey baby I'm just a nut tryin to fuck a
Maybe we shut the world up
Let some slug your life
Suddenly she hypes an up, like
"What do you mean?" and I start buggin
"If I was to fallowed you home would you me
Would you me, would you pet me
Would I you till your sleepy?"
She I'm creepy, and walked off
Too late, I already got off on the you even stopped
You knew I'd you like an object
You knew I was a rapper, you it was the trend
For us rapper men to women infront of friends
Nonetheless; here comes that kid Sean I used to be cool with
Went to school with, now kid is talkin fool shit
supper touchy with his lips about
how I stuck his supposedly
the fuck is this supposed to be
Sean's got nuts, hes alone, I'm wit
Now tell me what the fuck I'm to do
I spew. Look (???) makes believers of
And I happen to know bitch sleeps in until the afternoon
Honestly, my man, you bother me
Cause Everybody bleeds, now go and ask your 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 my ass, I ain't gonna lie, ain't gonna laugh
It wasnt fun, but fuck 'em, get my gun
Shit that gets done in the world of rap
If they pushin on ya vibe, you just a pussy if it
So I sprint up three flights, Get into the whipe on the door
Draggin dirt and on the rug, and the wood floor
believe my squad just stood there and watched
Word to God, this boy tellin me to blame it on my
I'm amped, and I'ma shoot every out there
I'm ill, and I'm gonna prove shit when I get back downstairs
Into the bedroom, my passion aimed at the
Visualizing the top shelf, thats where the is
I push the top up, enough to fit my in
Reach the box in a frenzy, realizing that it's empty
Hand rests in the box, festers 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 "What, What, What Kid What"
I'm "What, What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm "What, What, What, What"

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Writers Die
Writers Die
Never Die