Luyện nghe bài hát Playing in Mud

It kicks in sons
In water doing womb time
new fine style severed fresh from the umbilical/
A non-conformist,
Thaw beats as buckets for the vomits,
Bro gets ill bars in accordance,
Slow yet still hard as a tortoise,
the skill,
Should we there'll be tortures,
by
Unworthy sad wounded
The mic is closed for maintenance,
Go talk outside your brain vacant friends,
Or at a hallway of a clinic,
Hitch-hiking wheel chairs passing paraplegics/
I'm an Autobot Spazzatron,
The one you're warned with the large hard weapons drawn,

out, new gender,
penner,
in my prime as

My rock, ripped sock, we got,
Soul for the music
enough rhymes to open up a bling-spot
clean cut gold are we pen,
My rock, ripped sock, we got,
for the music fan/
Wit' enough rhymes to up a bling-spot
clean cut gold are we pen,
Do you

The hole in my back for God performs ventriloquism/
Puppet,
visions/
Pun vet,
Ben Stiller ill
Scripted,
Intrinsic in
I you,
Gel prop'ly,
few copies,
Popichulo,
You probably know,
I'm not in the bothered,
In bar race none can ever sprint farther,

do tend to pale in comparison,
albino twin! twin!/
Psycho,
If you know it's I Mpo,
with an A H and it's no typo//
G-g-g-get that ass thoroughly,
No a nutjob who clocks in hourly/
leap, as far being,
the box,
unorthodox schemes/
rhyme flexer takin' space in the booth, lace
lines quite fresher than the in your toothpaste,
for the lecture
in the form of a CD
wit' the device,

Indeed he
Dikes,
Couldn't the tongue game,
the old MILF down to the young dame,
Came, saw,
speech,
s-s-slurred

My clique rock, sock, we got,
Soul for the fan/

My rock, ripped sock, we got,
Soul for the fan/
Wit' enough rhymes to up a bling-spot
cut gold are jewels we pen,
Do you
Alrightie