Luyện nghe bài hát Production

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

An aural wall of waking, a wash in purple
And a digging of the flowers in your
Electric rays of intensify the feeling
Of towards the things you say I ain't

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

Product of your
Product of your
Product of a plan
Product of a man

of infanticide
Product of decaying
of your mass corruption
Product of, production,