Luyện nghe bài hát Yonkers

I'm a walking paradox, no I'm not
Threesomes a fucking triceratops, Reptar
as I'm mocking deaf rock stars
Wearing wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
Bedrock, than a motherfucking Flintstone
Making crack 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 that she's been getting with men
(Syd, shut the fuck up) Here's the to my therapist
(Shit) Tell him all your problems, he's fucking awesome 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, I already got mine
And he's not fucking working, I think I'm wasting my damn
I'm clocking three six and going postal
the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines
This ain't no V shit or Columbine
But after bowling, I went home for some Adventure Time
(What'd you do?) I myself some pink Xannies
And around the house in all-over print panties
My mom's gone, that fucking broad never understand me
I'm not gay, I wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?) Fuck her, Wolf Haley them
I'll that fucking airplane that that faggot nigga B.o.B is in
And stab Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And stop 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 receiver
Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant retrievers
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 some cooking books, the kids never wanted to read them
back, green ch-ch-chia fucking leaves
It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't her fucking weave, damn

They say success is the revenge
So I beat DeShay up with the of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again! Another critic report
I'm stabbing any faggot hipster with a Pitchfork
suicidal I am
I'm Wolf, Tyler put this knife in my hand
I'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that hole in my head
And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a cock in bitch
(What the fuck, man?) the fame and all the hype, G
I just want to know if my father ever like me
But I don't give a fuck, so he's probably like me
A motherfuckin',
(Fuck everything, man) That's what my conscience
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