Luyện nghe bài hát Cool Band Buzz

They want to good freestyling with sarcasm of Woody Allen
Their own oil rigs
They're just some spoiled kids who I must aim to
And so I'm in a syrup vat
And you know town is a tourist trap
Run by entertainment industries and the
Selling the ultimate brain
This I'm Sambo
I'm on the Channel
I'm smiling and reading my of prose
I of the common man and of the promised land
But I'm insincere and the Marxists doze
My head was a jar of lit
I used to make carsick at shows
But now I'm the most compromising slut
Oh, it's to keep this harlot clothed
I network and do more than
I start toes
Underground rappers smell like garlic
But me, I'm and decadent
Paid obscenely to at a set event
Companies license my
Money, it my flighty fits
I the great American pop song stylized to my respective tiny niche

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

The attendance is always subpar 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 falling a bottomless pit
But I'm trying to be
I spin plates
But the label prorates
My arms are to cotton pick
Look at the portraits in my doodle sketch
and art exude with every brush stroke
But my promises of revolution are futile
I'm so sensitive my crotch is bloodsoaked
I'll African and cast a voodoo hex while in your dorm spilling all the bong water
And count the stars in the nebula until a goggleplex while you sticks of nag champa
I dumbfound in the coffee
Looking like Jean-Michel
And gaudy pop with dirty laundry smell
all foolhardy
Leaving kids oddly
Gentle laughter when I'm jokes at your dead pool party
I am a of an exquisite corpse
I'll cry ten minutes in wet tennis court because I wasn't invited