Luyện nghe bài hát WND

It's summer, and I'm chillin on my with my little crew
Just the videos, just like all the little rappers do
We voice love to the we know that walk past
and smilin, Livin out of a shot glass
And I talk when it comes to girls
Hey baby I'm a nut tryin to fuck a squirrel
Maybe we could the world up
Let slug into your life
she hypes an eyebrow up, like
"What do you mean?" and I start like
"If I was to fallowed you home 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 already got off on the fact you even
You I'd treat you like an object
You knew I was a rapper, you it was the trend
For us rapper men to disrespect women of friends
Nonetheless; here comes that kid that I used to be cool with
Went to school with, now this kid is talkin fool
Gettin supper touchy with his about
how I his bitch supposedly
What the fuck is this 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 happen to your bitch sleeps 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 kicked my ass, I ain't lie, ain't gonna laugh
It wasnt fun, but fuck 'em, get my gun
Shit like gets done in the world of rap
If pushin on ya vibe, you just a pussy if it slides
So I sprint up three flights, Get the feet 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, boy tellin me to blame it on my cock
I'm amped, and shoot every motherfucker out there
I'm ill, and I'm gonna prove that shit when I get back
the bedroom, my passion aimed at the closet
Visualizing the top shelf, thats where the is
I push the top up, to fit my hand in
Reach into the box in a frenzy, that it's empty
rests in the box, head festers in an open stun
Then I remember, I 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 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
Writers Die
Never Die
Never Die