Luyện nghe bài hát Chum

Something to it
Pendulum slow, a degenerate moving
Through the city with criminals, stealth, welcome to enemy
Harder than immigrants work, "Golf" is stitched my shirt
Get up off the pavement brush the up off my psyche
Psyche,

It's probably been years since my father left, left me fatherless
And I just to say I hate him in dishonest jest
When honestly I miss this nigga, like I was six
And every I got the chance to say it I would swallow it
Sixteen, I'm hollow, intolerant, shots
I storm that whole bottle, I'll show you a role
I'm drunk, pissy, pissing on somebody lawn
to figure out how and when the fuck I missed moderate
Momma often was offering offerings
Think, wheeze cough, scoffing and he's off
Searching for a big brother, Tyler was
And plus he liked how I rap, the blunted mice in the
Too black for the white kids, and too white for the
honor roll to cracking locks up off them bicycle racks
I'm indecisive, I'm scatterbrained, and I'm frightened, evident
And them eyes, where he hiding all icicles at?

Something to it
swinging slow, a degenerate moving
Through the city with criminals, stealth, welcome to enemy
Harder than work, "Golf" is stitched into my shirt
Get up off the pavement brush the up off my psyche
Psyche,

"Can I get that, oh let me get beat in my headphones"

Uh time lapse, bars rot in heart's pit
Was mobbin' as '96 Havoc and Prodigy did
We were the posse crash the party and dip
With all belongings then toss em out to the
Nothing was fucking awesome, to make it from the bottom
His sins feeling as hard as Vince Carter's cartilage is
Supreme garment and weed gardeners spliffs
With particles and entering apartments with 'zine article
Tolerance for boundaries, I know you now
Craven and these Complex-fuck niggas track me down
Just to be the that did it, like, "I like attention"
Not the type where niggas trying to get a at my expense
to be grateful, right?
Like, "Thanks so much, you made my
Harder, and the between my mom and I are strained and tightened
Even more than they were all of this shit"
Been back a week and I already feel calling it quits

Something to it
swinging slow, a degenerate moving
Through the city criminals, stealth, welcome to enemy turf
Harder immigrants work, "Golf" is stitched into my shirt
Get up off the pavement the dirt up off my psyche
Psyche,

"Ha ha ha!"