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 rappers do
We love to the heads we know that walk past
Sunshine and smilin, Livin out of a glass
And I talk fast when it comes to
Hey baby I'm just a nut tryin to fuck a
Maybe we could the world up
Let some slug your life
Suddenly she hypes an 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 said I'm creepy, and off
Too late, I got off on the fact you even stopped
You knew I'd treat you like an
You knew I was a rapper, you knew it was the
For us rapper men to women infront of friends
Nonetheless; here comes that kid Sean that I to be cool with
Went to school with, now this kid is talkin fool
Gettin touchy with his lips about
how I stuck his bitch
What the is this supposed to be
Sean's got nuts, hes alone, I'm wit
Now tell me what the I'm supposed to do
I spew. (???) makes believers of cartoons
And I happen to know your bitch sleeps in 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 gonna lie, ain't laugh
It fun, but fuck 'em, I'ma get my gun
Shit that gets done in the world of rap
If they pushin on ya vibe, you a pussy if it slides
So I up three flights, Get into the feet whipe on the door
Draggin dirt and blood on the rug, and the wood
Couldn't believe my squad stood there and watched
to God, this boy tellin me to blame it on my cock
I'm amped, and I'ma shoot every motherfucker out
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 the shoebox is
I the top up, enough 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
Writers Die
Writers Die