Luyện nghe bài hát Yonkers

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

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

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