Luyện nghe bài hát Personal Journalist

Sage
Journalist

He left with deep breaths in chest that needs less innovating,
they're still debating over what "rhyme skill" is.
Got Sick of Waiting...for killers to get over their murder raps.
Then he sold his own off his back

For cheap exposure. He'd for closure but stayed open minded.
seemed to keep composure peeking over both his eyelids.
Speaking in misleading cultures of ultra-violence.
Teaching others how to be more loving brotherly guidance.

A bleeding soldier knows the science. He does the math and writes
Without having to twice.
Without asking for advice. Letting the peel.
Having brains by head lice before the scabs heal.

His mask conceals his face paint.
It feels a safe place, but it ain't.
like it safety seals fates, but it don't.
He's not a real saint. another one of those religious, political jokes.

And that's not half of the nutshell cats are compelled
to crack open to extract his blood from.
When he comes back hell again,
You'll a few bones to pick with a fractured skeleton.

Sage
Anti-socialite.
Admirer.
Loaner.
Drifter.
Bootlegger.
Doctor.
Referentialist.
Runner.
Journalist.

Word is the worthless wordsmiths were impersonal twists.
Heard they're concerned making the Earth shift.
These kid games are silly. all art is signed anonymous,
He'll that Big Bang Theory into a Small Pop Hypothesis.

Francis.
Merchant.

son...father to none...

Husband to something soulless and didn't his life with who he loved.
The hardest workers in need no diamond studded glove.
"His time is up!" He's still the type poised to make a back.
Kill the white until the sun's black.
around New York City and get murdered by flocks of sheep,
Who square dance inside a box of beats.
The California sequences end quick.
Couldn't find middle in little towns on some Midwest trip.
He stood for something...but fell for every in the book, so he stopped believing...
In an avant of Eden.
"Get off the cross!" Of we need the wood to burn a Godless heathen.
Catch him red handed...only if his are bleeding.

Sage
Non-Prophet.
Intelligent.
Avant Guardian Dust Mite.

It's been a pleasure. It's a pleasure

But get out of my face with all that sunshine
Get out my weathered face with all sunshine
Get out my weathered face all that sunshine
Get out my face.