Luyện nghe bài hát Radio Stars

{Occasionally, the overwhelming temptation to
The pinnacle of the pop music genre, reduce even
The most examples of the underground music scene
To attempt to their so-called artistic endeavors
In a vain attempt to appeal to the public at
Behold, the

Uh, fuck platinum, platinum just enough
We need more money, more houses and cars and
I'm sick of juggalos, I want them hoes
I want them shitty hoes, you get with and videos
We'll do whatever it to get some air play
We'll make bounce shit, triple our sales and pay
Yeah, on Shaggy, What? Follow my lead, let's go
It's time we change our shit up to get we need, come on

Uh, play
Yo! yo! Come on and ride me, me
Pull, pull! Come on and me, hide me
Cat black, I'm gonna grow one, one
Club cat, you them old ones, old ones
Black, black, at that lady go, lady go
at me, I'm on the radio, radio
Cut, cut, we gonna it away, throw it away
Give up, us the radio play, radio play

hey! what? what? what? hey! what?
What? hey
hey! what? what? what? hey! what?
What? hey

{The attempts never cease
The moronic musical onslaught to insult
The intelligence of the consumer
How much more can an audience be asked to

work, ah fuck, what happened?
They always told us we sucked at rapping
I don't know how to play a guitar
I'll play the skin flute to be a star
I'm of keeping it real, and underground
I the ten millions fans sell out radio flavor sound
Even though we'll be next summer
Show me a radio dick, and I'll show you a
we go, oh my God

Joey fell in love with a college
She had a and a pony tail
She said her name was but I do not know
She disco lemonade and cherry jello
I can put my Buddy glasses on
I can even one of these faggot songs
I can wear checkered pants and smile
Whatever's cool for your dial
Toby fell in with a college

{The borish, buffoons are baffled in their journey
Through the music
Each sonnet is more ridiculous the last
Their towards musical success
Are little more than a stumble into complete

That was bullshit, the fuck? You think of something
I'm sitting here trying to hits, your doing nothing
You wrote the shit, but did it work? No
It flopped on its ass, at I tried though
Alright, ain't no need to be fighting each other
We need to start about relationships and lovers. why?
Can you sing? No, can I
If we're gonna be radio stars, we at least try

Remix, uh, remix, clown boy, uh, me
me, clown boy, remix, uh
Girl, I gotta let you know, on
I wanna lick you head to toe
Girl, perfume, it's smelling so sweet
I wanna love, between the sheets

Girl, play my song, I'm on the phone long
I'm a radio man, and I know I can't sing, yes I can
Give me one more chance, and I'll make you
Girl, we make radio songs, for fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go
Girl, we make radio songs, for fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, so you fucked my boy, I don't give a

{After of endless attempts, ICP received almost no radio play
Finally the two dim witted
Decided to with the wicked shit for life}