Luyện nghe bài hát Yonkers

I'm a fucking paradox, no I'm not
Threesomes a fucking triceratops, Reptar
Rapping as I'm mocking deaf stars
Wearing synthetic wigs made of dreadlocks
Bedrock, harder a motherfucking Flintstone
Making rocks out of pussy nigga fishbones
This nigga trying to get grown
About 5'7" of his in my bedroom
the cinnamon, I'm a scribble this sin and shit
While Syd is telling me she's been getting intimate with men
(Syd, the fuck up) Here's the number to my therapist
(Shit) Tell him all your problems, he's awesome with listening

Jesus called, he he's sick of the disses
I told him to quit bitching and isn't a fucking hotline
For a fucking shrink, sheesh I already got
And he's not fucking working, I think I'm wasting my damn
I'm three past six and going postal
This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock
This ain't no V Tech shit or
But after bowling, I went home for some damn Adventure
(What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink
And danced around the house in all-over panties
My mom's gone, that fucking will never understand me
I'm not gay, I just boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Williams?) Fuck her, Wolf Haley robbing them
I'll crash that fucking airplane that that nigga B.o.B is in
And stab Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And won't stop the cops come in
I'm an achiever, so how about I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the receiver
Green paper, gold and pregnant golden retrievers
Is all I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don't need
But where the fat ones at? I got something to them
It's some cooking books, the black kids wanted to read them
Snap back, green ch-ch-chia leaves
It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't her fucking weave, damn

say success is the best revenge
So I DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again! Another writing report
I'm stabbing any blogging faggot with a Pitchfork
Still I am
I'm Wolf, Tyler put fucking knife in my hand
I'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that hole in my head
And I'm Wolf, was me who shoved a cock in your bitch
(What the fuck, man?) the fame and all the hype, G
I just want to if my father would ever like me
But I don't give a fuck, so he's probably just me
A motherfuckin',
(Fuck everything, man) That's what my conscience
it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead
Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on
Actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit,