Luyện nghe bài hát O.d.h.g.a.b.f.e.

Hate, falling three to the ground
Face down on the cold floor of a well oiled SF, I met my one true love
Feel crushed somewhere between concrete and boot
Another of the lower hate
You are not my God, you think is funny, don't you, pig?

How the helpless freak squirms beneath our state soles
But what is he at?
There was padded about a wagon full of mace
Rotator cuff hyper extends my back
Ribs cracking a rain of

Sticks and heels down like the rain outside
Oh yeah, bitch, I'm remember your face, your name, your number
And when I crawl out of this hole I'm to make you all mine
Auschwitz, State Chi-Town 68, Tianamen, Waco