Luyện nghe bài hát Crosshairs

The fat is in the fire, a made of chicken wire
sick and tired of a friggin' liar
Pelican with some soft mangoes
A full of skeletons and terry cloth Kangols

Flew the coop you hit it let me warn you
She did a cool but don't get any on you
It's all a big scam to make eat pig ham
he's on the mic he's like the trigger man, fig jam

Doom, not to be confused nobody
Especially, since the flows he was so nutty
Never too woozy to go study, got no clues
old cruddy Officer McGillicuddy

Watch your six, he got a lot of tricks
Lyrics, bricks, on sure got raw-nytics
It's a gift, don't get shot for
With the slick used to plot sick vicks with

Spotted at a chick flick, hands
The other one on his swollen glands, a chance
That's why he kept them holes in his
in a old van is what he told his stolen fans

Is you true? Matched from hat to shoe
Snafu, snatch any brew, LaBatt's
Black Jew that's new, patch me through
No latch attached, shoo, catch twenty-two

Super, he's loaded nice
And overpriced, a arm and a leg, homey or your ice
Villain, nag a old hag
Snag a bragger by his mic cord and leave him the bag

Come clean, a bunch of dumb mean cream
A keen drum machine buff, who for more green stuff
of starvin' there be problems by the goo gobs
Aight, somebody's robbin' Lou Dobbs and them

And he's on the flight, moon bound
And makes it a point to stay away from the pound
Got some peers, gone in the lost years
Tears and cheers, born in the

Hey Mr.
that you were singing?
(It is the Robotic of Doom)

Well, I say
Nuttin' livens up a Hymn of Doom
Better an amazing pair of jugs