Luyện nghe bài hát Production

This man may a shit load to prove
He's got to a score against the groove
Infinite orgasm, joy and pain
Like to my ears, like a holy rain

An aural wall of waking, a wash in paint
And a digging of the flowers in your
Electric of healing intensify the feeling
Of hatred towards the things you say I

a man-child, his soul and semen
Pathetic thoughts he forever
Heard you caused a landslide, home
Saw you slide the man-child your coat

of your generation
Product of masturbation
of a master plan
Product of a man

Product of
Product of decaying
Product of your corruption
of, production, production