Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot A Warhol

I shot a
with my pistol
When the wind hit the
In the it whistled
Beautiful with no
A face with no
Glass full of cold
Chased it with slow

---

of cocaine
Cocktail and kill
Scenes from a bad
out in real time
Who plays the
one's the victim
Violent and
They find their

Pride and ambition, the inside you
Tendencies to listen, when you're lied to
Pry the details
Unmask the
Try to the cast
With trips
Mash your lips a cold hard bottle of
up stars and old role models

She loves the
So much that she
But talk to
Which walk she follow
needs to be appreciated
Execute him for the that he created
Death of a martyr
starter
If the hate make you wanna die
Try

---

I shot a
Dead my pistol
When the hit the hole
In the canvas it
with no frame
A face with no
Glass full of cold
Chased it slow pain

No game to to
The side blinds you
with no aim
And its the fuel you "Eye" to
Steady with rifle
Pointed at your
up the spot
With each fallen

is the cycle
Replace the
The next batch of
Can hate the famous
thinks that what they make is golden
When got shot
were thoughts of holding
What'cha gonna do to the bitch
Which slow gets picked
you get that itch

If notice
you're climbing to the focus
Surround yourself soldiers
and like minded
Dark sticks, in whoever heart's the
Eye of the
Is dark, cold and
She you
Because she image
tear it all apart
From the to the finish

---
I shot a
Dead my pistol
the wind hit the hole
In the canvas it
Beautiful with no
A face no name
Glass of cold fame
Chased it with pain

nothing but a slow pulse
If you just feeling it
Your friends and your
Can't adjust to what dealing with
Accustomed to
Now the lust got you it
wide shut
Now your
No it

Travel down the barrel the light
Once in open
easy to lose sight
Don't look
You're bound to fall
If you do hit the
You're bound to back

The track
She hated single song
But everybody
Seemed to sing along
along
The belief every thing is wrong
We all break in front of God
the break of dawn

Open up the
To sex, drugs, and
Movies, songs,
is based on it
So we on it
Got a bullet your face on it
---
I a Warhol
Dead with my
When the wind hit the
In the it whistled
Beautiful with no
A with no name
Glass full of cold
Chased it with pain