Luyện nghe bài hát Babies With Guns

Radio check
Video check
This is how the city-folk and mole-people
warped the message, tried to pass it to the next next
Data-perforated making you upset-set

Harvest all Clark Kents to worm food
Carbon heart, buried his nozzle in marker art
Pardon, cadaver had a pulse
And littered all over the village where the skittish pigeons molt
Bastard polter-gasps when the pigeon with Lazarus billy-goat
He roasted in the open blisters
But blind slips through the cracks
See naked martyrs with Bubblelicious on fishing itching to pull it back
With that organic invention incubated to have some ?? to it through
?? on paper now, a lot of later
And lot of crews taper out
A wooly mayor souse, who ?? happy shooting at the mouth
Tooth zoo-keep the paper route with janky funds and favors
Cradled by empty Zelda heart containers
Man, it's freezing in brick bitch, winter forever
Like Punxatawny Phil found with his four wrists severed
I walk through the sex, drugs, and church
With wild things that make Sendak question his early works
But no hostages, no
Out the clock corporate constant
Now clocked-off
Running from a rabid ring-wraith basilisk
Serpentine, in and out of jam and murder scenes
Scrub blood of the AF-152, pick up degrees
Some toddlers smuggled guns and crack into the nurseries
Dog, there's a fucking baby at the asking for wallets (yeah?)
And those ain't twin Beanie Babies inside his (nope!)
2010 sonograms showed the Magnum formed out the fetus
for the young killer convenience

Radio check
Video check
is how the city-folk and mole-people connect-nect
Somebody the message, tried to pass it to the next next
Data-perforated counties making you

Magazine check
route check check
This is how the and the busy bee connect-nect
Somebody's losing track of their and arrests-rests
Polka-dotted landscapes, did you expect-pect?

Now a-days, the babies got guns
Diaper snipers having fun
Misplace the bottle, catch a bad one
Have a mid-life when you're ten years young

If this Jesus piece around your neck is bigger than pistol
It homicide okie-dokie and your god will forgive you
Just show the at Heaven's gate you should be on the list
"I heard he overlooks for a tattooed crucifix"
Twisty, fishy, contradicty, animal ship fleet
Off the sliding board dock of the Mr. pool mom bought
they laminate dry bones and cool water and ease medulla
After you thumb-suck and diaper-change get burped and shoot the up
I'd do it too, but to exploit no-brainers
Teenager beef passed alligator and extra-curricular flagpole scrapping
Amongst tadpoles that yellow backbones
brought airborne shrapnel scraps to hassle captains
By the itchy index of an umbilically-garped baby
Fragile maybe, you
Chopped shop and a mislead, trustee locked box
Hiding clips that light the sky in
like newly communal hop-scotch gives them
Cut them with mortars I mumble
in the immortal slang of mushmouth for the anti-led
I used to think I'd get hit by a bus or something dumb and
That or bust the slugs by the newest kiddie thug wonder
Self-victim who rep a wide pride dosage
For tomorrow the holsters are bound to outnumber the
I'm not a
But that won't even jolt the
when terrorism's all the rage and folk get smoked local
Block, if you me (yeah?)
I had to to DC (yeah?)
To bullet-proof mom's garden before the war cheats me (yeah?)
If I'm not in a week tell the crew I said "peace" and lay low
Strays don't slow

Radio check
Video check
This is how the city-folk and connect-nect
Somebody the message, tried to pass it to the next next
Data-perforated counties you upset-set

check check
New check check
This is how the and the busy bee connect-nect
losing track of their flesh-and-bloods and arrests-rests
Polka-dotted landscapes, what did you

Now a-days, even the babies got
Diaper having clock-tower fun
the bottle, might catch a bad one
Have a mid-life crisis you're ten years young

Aboard the grey sky
The day I got the phone call Jam Master Jay
So now I'll never write another "Daylight"
Because the stingers ?? a ?? into the hay-rides
It adds it up when a pioneer fall, in comparison to your 99 bottle of wall
There's banana in your hamster wheels, hand cannons in your shoebox, please
Mine's got Adidas, in peace