Luyện nghe bài hát For Fucks Sake

[Ed
i've tried to all the ways in which the world is backwards,
and the madness with a silver hammer smash it out,
but the trouble is that my discoveries are so and ugly,
that i sprint away then the speed of sound,
outer city limits hide the secrets of the crowds,
so i'm striding further the silence is the only sound,
our village idiots are playing with volleyballs,
and shooting hoops at shabby crates on muddy grounds,
a microcosm of the fact life is hyper-rotten,
typing in an office 'bout some bullshit make some cash,
and looking round at suits and ties at peeps resigned to spending living day living like rats and burning atlas maps,
and i fucking hate the fact that sit and mind their own in packed establishments and feign acknowledgements of swapping facts,
to the point where i start thinking crazy along the lines of pulling guns like columbine and shooting all those fucking twats,
man i wish the planets crashed and left a lonely habitat where peeps could actually decide happened in their history,
but shit the sickest thing is the survivors of the crash will probably inspire me to still embark upon a spree,
my is sick of seeing of these stupid human beings shooting semen till the population's super high,
man i swear the planet handle all these addicts,
soon the sky vanish into darkness all man kind is paralyzed,
a sanitized and bubble existence where the hubble tracks,
the microsystems of the population living day,
and tabs on scallywags like edward scissortoungue,
in search for secret code words in the verses he generates,
'cause generation is glued to the for days,
a of debauchery that i can not translate,
my lakes alive in flames,
my microphone describes the ways that Mr edward scissortongue on it and procrastinates.

Dike]
I day dream pace and baby,
and maybe i may seem hate change me,
i rate lazy and lay about blazin,
a cloud ridden spittin out little grape seeds,
so women if you hate me (heeey),
i know i rate being on tapes to the ladies,
but i'm james and i can't change if you paid me,
i'll dance in the till i'm 80,
man fuck it i'd shine some floors,
then write rhymes, lie, try and hide my thoughts,
you can sit wise rich fucking your horse,
got a shit little bike and a 5's a draw,
this, lifes a and i'm still tryna find peace,
highly unlikely tryna write deep lines in a beehive,
we and find sweet people behind me,
speak if lively

Baxter]
there nuttin like a 9 to 5,
to merc creative urge,
the life and of jake emerged,
when brightons lights the jake that burns,
collate the and arrive on the naked earth today,
i live life in a hazy blur blazed and chasin a faceless skirt,
so wait your to pray for you saviour sir,
the burn for days in your paper church,
my brain would burst if it just had the to,
i'd escape the world if i just had the to,
i'm stuck undo, undo, undo,
but control z never like the drugs do,
who when the fucking lust has become you,
bun you got the time any more,
let me fly set a to the sky from the floor,
and i'll sore from this island of and war,
and the warbling prized from the jaws,
of my former if died to conform,
then rise from your moore the kids cower hellbound,
piling your thoughts to a tower meltdown,
this is how sweat sounds dripping from a fist,
in a sandpit missing his atlantis,
thats rich coming from the of a gremlin,
man theres too many steps and i'm ever