Luyện nghe bài hát Pac Blood

The Shakespeare at 16, my ink pen
Made a sculpture of me but my dick was too
Painting pictures of me but never get my chin...
One scriptures bringing tears to the princes
Every I indent, you can see the intent
Leave your mind bent, on the every sentence
Have no apprentice, style
Laughing at you peasants cause my is excellent
I'm in the present, eyes get wide
I'm the town cause my words give a ride
And what they feel inside, I say the perfect for em
Some say I'm a prophet the visions I get cursed for
Leave them all astonished, ride with the
Make a grown man cry with on the words

Tears to Lisa, Medusa to liquid
Make Gandhi grab the burner while they shoot
Rhymes that the Pope wanna get his dick sucked
Had Virgin Mary lines in the pick-up
Make Sarah deep-throat til she hiccup
Had? run his bitch stick-ups
so real, thought I wrote it at? hood
Told me in my that these niggas is not good
What's in the portfolio? Sicker polio
Shit so personal, my mind can't to
Oh so original, nigga's
? Bakowski, soda-pop
World Match could never be the one, your time's
filling smelling like napalm, your day's gone
Electric? with a blue fuse and a loose
Maya Angelou abused child her notebook
Spitting like Kiplin a tooth missing
Tom Greene torture to men, and children
sacred, hid in the basement
Await my next peace at a engagement
Crowds walk for just to hear that sound
Start to get more than the one that wear a crown

Tears to Lisa, Medusa to liquid
Make Gandhi grab the burner while shoot shit
that make the Pope wanna get his dick sucked
Had Mary doing lines in the pick-up
Make Palin deep-throat til she hiccup
Had? run his doing stick-ups
Rhymes so real, thought I wrote it at?
Told me in my dreams that these is not good