Luyện nghe bài hát My Rhymes Rhyme

Roses are red, are blue.
My rhyme, but yours don't.

Hey! I'm all up in your face a rabid chimp,
I'll eat shrimp on a blimp but I no wimp.
I American flags to Ho Chi Minh,
and Simpson toys to Sam Kinison.
If you're to sin, you may just win,
unless you buy a condom that's of lamb skin.
I'm down with you of course and your Ian,
although half of this rap is European.
I translated it so it make sense
to all you ladies and but there's no evidence
if I'm going too or if I'm going too slow.
You can always press "repeat" on this funky flow.
Though you may not know if I mean what I say,
it's legit when I tell you this don't play.
So sit back and and pop open a Coke,
to me, 50 Cent, your rhymes are a joke.

REPEAT
Word, word, word to your and your father too,
and props to who keeps staying true.
And shout outs to my homeys across the globe, accept diversity but a homophobe.
The only way to is to embrace the truth,
all creatures of God, Buddha, Allah, and Zeus.
We're here for a bit, so make the best of it.
Don't back in sixty years
to see your was... garbage!
But the point I'm trying to is that
my are so def like a big milkshake.
I mean to brag, I don't mean to boast,
but the Sugarhill Gang is the most.

REPEAT

So get this point right here, perfect clear,
props to who bought "Nothing to Fear."
Shout to Wesley Willis, Atom G., and John Hall.
Word to MC Barman, hey return my call!
What's up to Garcia, Hendrix, Morrison and Zappa,
word to Devo, "Weird Al," and girls from Abba.
I hope you have a good day and that you're swell,
even though the industry can be hell.

REPEAT