Luyện nghe bài hát Cool Band Buzz

They want to good freestyling with sarcasm of Woody Allen
Their parents own oil
They're some spoiled kids who I must aim to please
And so I'm in a syrup vat
And you this town is a tourist trap
Run by entertainment and the bureaucrats
Selling the brain freeze
year I'm Sambo
I'm on the Clear
I'm smiling and reading my parchment of
I talk of the man and of the promised land
But I'm insincere and the Marxists doze
My head was a jar of lit
I used to viewers carsick at shows
But now I'm the most compromising slut
Oh, it's hard to keep this clothed
I and do more than schmooze
I start toes
rappers smell like garlic cloves
But me, I'm and decadent
Paid to appear at a set event
Companies license my
Money, it heightens my fits
I wrote the American pop song stylized to my respective tiny niche

I wasn't to your shindig
I've got no plus one and a low slush
I never to ever win big
I never for you to open my press kit

The attendance is subpar when I perform at a club or bar
Why did I choose to do weird
I steered my career off a in a flaming stunt car
So now I'm down a bottomless pit
But I'm to be optimistic
I microwaveable plates
But the label prorates
My are to cotton pick with
Look at the poignant in my doodle sketch
Meaning and art with every brush stroke
But my promises of are futile threats
I'm so over my crotch is bloodsoaked
I'll African dance and a voodoo hex while in your dorm spilling all the bong water
And count the stars in the until a goggleplex while selling you sticks of nag champa
I in the coffee shop
Looking like Jean-Michel
And gaudy pop with dirty laundry smell
all foolhardy
Leaving kids distraught
Gentle laughter when I'm telling jokes at your dead pool
I am a necromancer of an exquisite
I'll cry ten minutes in your wet court because I wasn't invited