Luyện nghe bài hát WND

It's summer, and I'm chillin on my steps with my little
Just like the videos, just like all the little 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 a squirrel
we could shut the world up
Let some slug your life
she hypes an eyebrow up, like
"What do you mean?" and I start like
"If I was to you home would you keep me
Would you me, would you pet me
Would I fuck you your sleepy?"
She I'm creepy, and walked off
Too late, I got off on the fact you even stopped
You I'd treat you like an object
You I was a rapper, you knew it was the trend
For us rapper men to disrespect women of friends
Nonetheless; here comes that kid Sean I used to be cool with
to school with, now this kid is talkin fool shit
Gettin supper with his lips about
how I stuck his bitch
the fuck is this supposed to be
Sean's got nuts, hes alone, I'm wit
Now me what the fuck I'm supposed to do
I spew. (???) makes believers of cartoons
And I happen to know your bitch in until the afternoon
Honestly, my man, you don't me
Cause Everybody bleeds, now go and ask 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 my ass, I ain't gonna lie, ain't gonna laugh
It wasnt fun, but fuck 'em, get my gun
like that gets done in the world of rap
If they on ya vibe, you just a pussy if it slides
So I sprint up three flights, Get into the feet on the door
Draggin dirt and blood on the rug, and the wood
Couldn't believe my just stood there and watched
Word to God, this boy tellin me to it on my cock
I'm amped, and I'ma shoot motherfucker out there
I'm ill, and I'm gonna prove that shit when I get back
Into the bedroom, my passion aimed at the
Visualizing the top shelf, thats the shoebox is
I push the top up, enough to fit my in
Reach into the box in a frenzy, realizing that empty
Hand in the box, head festers in an open stun
I remember, I don't even 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 "What, 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