Luyện nghe bài hát Cool Band Buzz

They to hear good freestyling with sarcasm of Woody Allen
Their own oil rigs
They're some spoiled kids who I must aim to please
And so I'm dipped in a vat
And you know this is a tourist trap
Run by entertainment industries and the
the ultimate brain freeze
This year I'm
I'm on the Clear
I'm and reading my parchment of prose
I of the common man and of the promised land
But I'm insincere and make the doze
My was a jar of lit bulbs
I used to make viewers at shows
But now I'm the most compromising slut
Oh, it's hard to keep harlot clothed
I and do more than schmooze
I start licking
Underground rappers smell garlic cloves
But me, I'm smug and
Paid obscenely to appear at a set
Companies license my
Money, it heightens my 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 fund
I expected to ever win big
I expected 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 shit
I my career off a cliff in a flaming stunt car
So now I'm down a bottomless pit
But I'm to be optimistic
I spin microwaveable
But the label nothing
My arms are to pick with
Look at the poignant portraits in my doodle
and art exude with every brush stroke
But my promises of revolution are futile
I'm so over my crotch is bloodsoaked
I'll African dance and cast a voodoo hex while in your dorm spilling all the water
And count the stars in the nebula until a goggleplex selling you sticks of nag champa
I in the coffee shop
Looking Jean-Michel Basquiat
And gaudy pop with dirty laundry smell
all foolhardy
Leaving kids oddly
laughter when I'm telling jokes at your dead pool party
I am a of an exquisite corpse
I'll cry ten minutes in your wet tennis court because I wasn't