Luyện nghe bài hát Coma

"We now to you...music" *cut up*
"Music to you stutter"

[Aesop
I've a biplane dog fighter Henson invention
Trooper burst of Dragon Ball Z/Speed Racer gene splicing
Mach force, blind the style from the common dirty
Destiny dream sighting, as split the prints
God shit the screaming "What on Earth is that?"
I sit back five
Only to muscle the overcooked
Fending tragic successful dodging violets
All hail and hello dollies!
I ridiculous, indigenous to now
Who the fifth golden ticket?
Saw the wicked war phantom mansion beyond the
The house next door to when the clears the fence
Y'all hesitate to it!
I was walking through a pinball built landscape
Terradactle circling
I bite the bullet in a wingspan
Suck and the oxygen gulps
And spit the directly back up the barrel
We icegrill the (right)
The decency factors a lowball estimate of zero
My testament is b-boy stances
Dancing past the foggy
With wipes clean the billy goat beard, camoflague the
I'm at six degrees of sexy
never swam up inside summerjam classic
Under the bed backwards
the carnival grounds for an outlet
WHO THE FUCK IS AES
I'm not a name to keep at arms
to little lattice quilt makeshift
Sick security mechanism, your mission
I am not a vision, your mission
Just a simple delinquent
No it will not you shove your Lincoln

2x
I alone
I peddle in the mud
I alone, I condone zone planting
I stand in a social coma
All up to dome, follow I alone

"Now you see me, now you don't" [Method

[Aesop
Well he was maverick enough but scraped up
Taki 183 for the kids
Brick foot honor
Escape the night like a disgruntled teen Krylon bomber
a care inside from posting the roster
Mal-adjusted faced civilian dispersed feelings
Reeling in several defunct fame-booster modules
This nervous twitch mark the most delectable
See Aesop starving troops in cell blocks with feeding bins
(More like) I'd auction off a fuck for that blind cause you ride in
I'd rather the floors and watch you hide them
the haggered look penetrate brain castle
Blasting clear out the back of this batches sour collection
(FLASH FLOODER!)
a fuckin wind-up toy
A four string criminal trading card
The reason decorate the fonts of closing credits
To boost on-looker after fading hard
Catch Z's than Rip Van Winkle's 12 Step Narcolepsy Seminar
The action, we all the masked illusion
The commonfolk, I em all
thirty balance
I alone pour while they fidget
If the ain't gon' be televised
fuck, I'll probably miss it

2x