Luyện nghe bài hát 54

Kill that cat, watch me kill cat
If your girl, I'm lookin' at
Then me kill that cat

I hunt cunts like these, with underground
In they yearly spots, spawn a million MC's
They used to go to shows, dance get high
Then you click the mic the whole audience wanna

In '92 I let the Cage Alex
Through radio demonstrate the fist, fuck the love ballads
Summon demons in my ad libs, fun
Vomit good shit, go feed off Christians

Red light in the Lincoln, from Drencrom
The corpse in my eye can the thinkin'
While I lay a wall of flesh, engulfed by the homeless
If I escape, I might my whole state

when Cage ripped in half on the concrete
Screamin', "That's my running down the street"
The undead, writin' in gun
Liposuct' a fat bitch out her box one hypo' jab

Inject tiger serum, I hear 'em, who?
with the fuckin' loaded thirty-oh-two, 'cause

This is for the whores, and the over stores
And dollars in my pocket on tour
This is for the kid said, "Oh, you dead"
And the stitches that he caught in his head

This is for the clowns, I beat with no
And the two O-Z's, to fifty-four grams
With two to the face, I'm a face
fifty-four seconds to outer space

I love a bull ground up, make a pound up
With green Jesus, get in I'll drive you to
Humanoid pause, God, with cyborg dogs after me
these rhymin' Sigmund Freuds for the cause

Your whole life's a room for worms
Strangest occurs, you see Venus in
toast out facin' Earth, avenge my sixteen
Your old shell talk to pistols Starscream

My whole lost on a wall in black marker
66 more for Clive Barker
With a little message, for real research
Can you guess who the DJ is?

My anti-commercial will curse you
Say fuck so much, my airplay's like
To shift farm chemists, the senate scarred
Start killin' all the like the Serbian guards

You supportin' communism buyin' so dub
Watch me put two rocks in Kurt Loder head,

is for the whores, and the kicked over stores
And dollars in my pocket on tour
This is for the kid said, "Oh, you dead"
And the stitches that he caught in his head

is for the clowns, I beat with no hands
And the two O-Z's, to fifty-four grams
With two to the face, I'm a basket
With fifty-four seconds to outer

The undead, red in the Lincoln
For Cage, ripped, in on the concrete
Screamin', "That's my runnin' down the street"
down the street, runnin down, running down the street