在手机上保存，获得更好体验
WND (Explicit) - Atmosphere
It's summer
And I'm chillin on my steps with my little crew
Just like the videos
Just like all the little rappers do
We voice love to the heads we know that walk past
Sunshine and smilin
Livin out of a shot glass
And I talk fast when it comes to girls
Hey baby I'm just a nut tryin to f**k a squirrel
Maybe we could shut the world up
Let some slug into your life
Suddenly she hypes an eyebrow up like
What do you mean
And I start buggin like
If I was to fallowed you home would you keep me
Would you feed me would you pet me
Would I f**k you till your sleepy
She said I'm creepy and walked off
Too late I already got off on the fact you even stopped
You knew I'd treat you like an object
You knew I was a rapper
You knew it was the trend
For us rapper men to disrespect women infront of friends
Nonetheless; here comes
That kid Sean that I used to be cool with
Went to school with
Now this kid is talkin fool sh*t
Gettin supper touchy with his lips about
How I stuck his b**ch supposedly
What the f**k is this supposed to be
Sean's got nuts
Hes alone I'm wit crew
Now tell me what the f**k I'm supposed to do
I spew Look
Makes believers of cartoons
And I happen to know your b**ch sleeps in until the afternoon
Honestly my man
You don't bother me
Cause Everybody bleeds
Now go and ask your seed who his father be
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
Now Sean kicked my a**
I ain't gonna lie ain't gonna laugh
It wasnt fun but f**k em
I'ma get my gun
Sh*t like that gets done in the world of rap
If they pushin on ya vibe
You just a p**sy if it slides
So I sprint up three flights
Get into the feet whipe on the door
Draggin dirt and blood on the rug
And the wood floor
Couldn't believe my squad just stood there and watched
Word to God
This boy tellin me to blame it on my cock
I'm amped
And I'ma shoot every motherf**ker out there
I'm ill
And I'm gonna prove that sh*t when I get back downstairs
Into the bedroom
My passion aimed at the closet
Visualizing the top shelf thats where the shoebox is
I push the top up
Enough to fit my hand in
Reach into the box in a frenzy
Realizing that it's empty
Hand rests in the box
Head festers in an open stun
Then I remember
I don't even own a gun
"What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What" (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What (I'm like) "What Kid What"
I'm like "What What What Kid What"
I'm like "What What What Kid What"
I'm like "What What What What"
Writers Never Die
Writers Never Die
Writers Never Die
