Luyện nghe bài hát Heart

Slightly schizophrenic borderline
recreational narcotics
I thought I lost it but I it
Temptation along till I'm surrounded
Inspired by fire the sensual
Caught the crossfire anger and confusion
Howl at the moon black that's starlit
I'm rarely romantic plowing through tramps and harlots madchild prevails of the unwanted
Not to be taken for
My past has come back and for real
I've all danced with death. a dozen black roses
I pose with breath
Be afraid a place magic is made
rain on your parade with silver razor blades
I'm creepin over the fence through your back yard
My mind intense
Savage on the rocks with a twist
Now and shake your fists
Cause dreams are of this

[Thirdrail
For real the opposite telepathic
the flats with automatics and back packs
Doin' jacks for Big Macs, accumulatin' stacks to G's Nigga please, you artificial

You somethin', it's your heart
An' it's still pumpin', you from this existence
It to be absolutely mandatory, cuz you be manipulatin' skin
But no way, you fake I can trace out your image
Even though you don't one, I smell a rat, I'm smellin' that
back at least 150 inches
You brew tea? an I know you I can sense it
the nostrils innocently mixed with 6 hostile stenches
Henceforth the elbow dinging, we bring whip to bleed scalps
Swingin' sleep out your
How long you hibernatin'? Too long!
You're and aiding a felon, to switch your melon
grammar like a judges hammer
I feel you mark, feel me feel your
You gotta be real an you gotta to heart
You gotta to be real an you to have heart

Stir the blur, and bolts whirl
Stored in electric ports, 4 boxes of 10 floors
Shift the weight the door, in hopes of escape
When hands on cord, the blazing roof Prev
break, concord, eye of the condor
Hand of a saboteur, your in for
A war that coarse of molten into cords
by the young ones, put me on tour
No folk horsemen for poison, pour in skin pores

Nous]
Soft rhymers, metamorphize their cartoon
from Africa, in this game you got no stature
Not even a in this
Whole shit me yawn
Snatch your heart out your like a '96 ghetto spawn
Antonym of urban, too feminine for this cut-throat
thoughts in my area, you get snatched out your Suburban
Fallacy with no antidote, in this? your age get
Runnin' from gun smoke, never rumin'
Silver spoons crumbin' flavour
there will be no overseer to save ya
When I delve, tell podiatrist it's a size 12
Soldiers, leakin' a swine
A snake with no spine, see you, I peeped you
see blue, the fake:
A quick death is fate
Now, I got to do