Luyện nghe bài hát Yonkers

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

called, he said he's sick of the disses
I told him to quit and this 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 time
I'm clocking three past six and postal
This the of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines
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 pink Xannies
And danced around the house in all-over print
My mom's gone, that fucking broad will never me
I'm not gay, I just boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?) Fuck her, Haley robbing them
I'll crash fucking airplane that that faggot nigga B.o.B is in
And stab Bruno in his goddamn esophagus
And won't until the cops come in
I'm an over achiever, so how about I a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide
Green paper, gold teeth and golden retrievers
Is all I want, money, diamonds and bitches, don't need them
But where the fat at? I got something to feed them
It's some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to them
Snap back, green fucking leaves
It's been a months, and Tina still ain't perm her fucking weave, damn

They say is the best revenge
So I beat DeShay up with the of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again! Another critic writing
I'm stabbing any blogging faggot with a Pitchfork
suicidal I am
I'm Wolf, Tyler put fucking knife in my hand
I'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that fucking hole in my
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 to know 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
Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my dead
Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on
Actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit,