Luyện nghe bài hát Mrsesame Seed - Violent J And Abk

(intro)
"naw man not mother fuk ass."
"dont let him it up."
"no man we tight you go ahead and smoke all to yourself dawg"
(verse)
Here he comes in his ice cream once again,
sellin of bullshit when its gunna end?
haven ass kids that dont know any better,
smoking of mud dust and calling it shredder.
you could eat ur weed pop it in like popcorn,
its alll seeds and its god damn wrong.
i chace like u when u show me the bag,
for tryin to insult me smarts with this shwag.
i crumble and get so high i cant see,
down and then i got your ass standing before me,
with a bag of barn floor like "tryin to one up".
mr. sesame fucking ass shut up u need punch,
for every headache hit that i took fuck off my before i rock ur block.
and u back to ur connect with ur eyes swollen money gone but ur weed aint stolin.
"keep shit"
(chorus)
mr. sesame seed theres somthing wich yo bag,
its more seed its weed,
more and sticks out to had.
a man tell me what the fuck is wrong wich u?
"fuck is wich you?"
bitch ass motherfucker what the fuck is wich you?
"fuck is wich you?"
(verse)
seed no bun for a bag,
instead of weed you should call it little and crack.
what? you got a bag of mixed with dirt.
why is it that every time i smoke my bleed and head hurt?
i buying ur shit no more i swear,
need the icky green with the bright white glare.
"keep steppen".
cant here.
dont need your poppin burning facial hair,
i would quit smoking then buy ur drama nightmares in my sleep about the seed man monster.
chaceing me serving me up.
weasle goes pop when the pipes lit up.
when now ur same old thing,
pillow case all with my head on sting.
im but what can i do?
weed man be whats wrong wich you?
(chours)

(verse)
i seen the artificial man selling bags of trick,
it was just crumb the next straight up bullshit.
i pulled the car and i beat his ass down,
for even trying to it even at a hundred a pound.
we must rid the earth its it exests.
eather way we always end up his shit.
all u rideing fockers all u gots is seeds.
and ur shit look a fucking bag of rice crispies.
my weed man gets the shit and it from his suit.
and these rainforest ridin on 24's,
and u ride the neighborhood on a unicycle,
sellin rong to people who dont know right, though.
so get bitched slaped off it and cough up green bags,
im eatin at ur weed sack bitch u that,
im beating that ass for them bags,
its cause cause u people dont smoke like shagg.
"thats the fuck im sayin man. yall motherfuckers sell some drankey ass shit man. yall sell stems and steeds and shit. if im gunna im gunna smoke some premium"
(chours)
(verse)
i dont need no seed.
i need no stickes and hay.
u aint gunna sell that that weeds more like a give away.
raffel it off to little kids for school lunch change.
walking through the hood selling joints of bird seed grain.
voice all cloths really stink.
like a bond fire what u think.
and got the to ask where ive been.
far the fuck away from u and ur bag of friends.
no hard but your shit sucks.
after breaking an ounce i only got 3 blunts.
so u weed man stop sellin.
im not a fucking but im in the mood for tellin.
(chours)