Luyện nghe bài hát MrRaven

We got EAP in the house tonight, Edgar Poe.
America's anti-transcendentalist.
We're taking this back, way back, century style.

Who's (who's that) rapping?
Who's that at my chamber door?
Mr. (mister) Raven!
All up in my like, "Nevermore."

Kick it! Once a midnight dreary, while I kicked it weak and weary,
Dark and just like Lake Eerie, Brand New sample, someone clear me.
While I nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
Up like, "What?", thunder clapping in my brain like graphic Halflings.
Staffing me, I put down Milton. Cell phone mute like Hilton.
Open window, halfway built-in. Times a changing Bob Dylan.
Twenty-pound bird black as be, cold feet cold eyes aimed straight at me.
Grim face, grim stare, death carnivore, quothe raven "Nevermore."

CHORUS]

I miss Lenore, my Annabel Lee, taken by angels me.
Alone with books (hey that's me!), harbinger of death me.
I said, "Can I help you, evil prophet? If you got a problem, look, solve it."
He checked my hook, DJ revolved it, perched on Pallas, dropped it.
"Tell me sir, please, if you can. Am I good or evil
What can I say, what can I do, will I be rid of you?"
"Nevermore," quothe he at me, on this fresh MC,
Satanic raven, Niche glee, killing me softly the Fugees.
Now I worse, my verse is terse, joy inverse just like Fred Durst.
Call a nurse, disperse my thirst put process in reverse.
Wish Id had warning first, MC Lars, '88 hearse.
Now I'll never be Slug or Murs, under black raven's curse.
The ravens eyes still have the seeming of a demon is dreaming,
over him still streaming, hear my screaming, hearme screaming!
My soul still floats on that floor and shall be lifted nevermore.
Afflicted calm, like Michael Moore, piece, US folklore.

CHORUS]

Who's Raven's house!