Luyện nghe bài hát Hey That's Me

It's off the hook home slice, a lucky fish.
All I wish is you taste this like a Swedish dish.
It's the L-A-R-S, H-O I-S...
and I CV, and yes I must confess:
I'm back 2003 and the drum pumps.
Back up, Kris Kross, it's my to jump.
See I'm a and I'm balanced,
rocking it like Valens,
and I'm up to this session,
yes I'm up to fresh challenge.
And I'm thinking, and I'm writing,
and I'm rapping, and I'll
all the of green apathy
up the zone.
Because I'll analyze world,
analyze your head.
I'll readjust your with this microphone.
I was in my '88 south on 101,
with the in the back bumping P.E. number one.
Free-styling in a genre I create,
props to Mel, Chuck D, and all eight
hundred thousand on whose shoulders I stand.
I'm just a white kid with a jammie in his hand!
See this MC here spends his feeling fine,
but doesn't often get off in a line.
Fine, will tell where he's headed.
It's up to chance, like Gretel's is breaded.
criticism? I'm above it! Your BS? Let's rubber glove it!
Take your heroin and it... life you've got to love it.
So get this, steal this, deal this, peel away,
I made this song out of my brain and clay.
It helped my brain for a week and a day,
one day it stopped working like the city of Pompeii.
But it's okay, hey, because I it home.
knack paddy whack, my sonic range his grown.
Profound like Antoine De Exuperey,
when I rock the of this song I say...

"Lars Horris," hey me!
Part Swedish, part Australian, fun boy G.
"Lars Horris," hey me!
I 1430 on my SAT's.
"Lars Horris," hey me!
I'll rock the like 1-2-3.
"Lars Horris," hey me!
I drop and math and biology.

I piss Catholics off with my comic in the Daily. "Why's it called Street'?" Man, don't front me.
Jorge might do "PhD," but can he ever try to rock the mike like me?
And I'm weird like Al, don't attend Cal, D.J.'s my buddy. Who's
Josh plays bass and I take vows,
to my rhymes that I'm busting now.
And I satisfy like GER's,
I advocate the of SUV cars.
I think and Palestine should get along.
I sampled Nine Inch Nails for song.
And I'm so post-modern, I even exist.
Did you that P. Diddy?
You got dissed!
It's the twenty-first century, please,
you're killing hip-hop when you the Bee Gees!
Most MC's rap about five things:
narcotics, cars, girls, clothes, and the bling.
Delusions of in full swing,
fascist self focus and rings.
But if Martin Luther King alive today,
how would he the decay displayed?
identities, ourselves betrayed,
there's more to rap than just paid.
And there's more to life MTV and Reeses Pieces,
and I sit in silence, my love for life increases.
It feels great to the plug on the family TV,
and make my own in society.
And while I this beat, you're doing spoken word,
to get your naked voice heard.
If I didn't know ProTools, I'd be you
and I could just do spoken if I wanted to.

"Lars Horris," hey me!
You see me on the street bumping Run-DMC.
"Lars Horris," hey me!
my BA I'll get my PhD.
"Lars Horris," hey me!
Metaphysically fly like Donne's "The Flea."
"Lars Horris," hey me!
Rewriting like Wide Sargasso Sea.