Luyện nghe bài hát Radio Stars

{Occasionally, the temptation to reach
The pinnacle of the pop music genre, reduce even
The most deplorable of the underground music scene
To attempt to change their so-called endeavors
In a attempt to appeal to the public at large
Behold, the

Uh, fuck platinum, platinum ain't enough
We need money, more houses and cars and stuff
I'm sick of juggalos, I them other hoes
I want them shitty hoes, you get with radio and
We'll do whatever it to get some air play
We'll make that shit, triple our sales and pay
Yeah, on Shaggy, What? Follow my lead, let's go
It's time we our shit up to get what we need, come on

Uh, play
Yo! yo! Come on and ride me, me
Pull, pull! Come on and hide me, me
Cat black, I'm gonna one, gold 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, give us the radio play, radio

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

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

Joey fell in with a college girl
She had a and a pony tail
She said her name was but I do not know
She drinks disco lemonade and cherry
I can put my Buddy Holly on
I can sing one of these faggot songs
I can wear checkered and never smile
Whatever's for your radio dial
Toby fell in love with a

{The borish, bumbling buffoons are in their journey
Through the business
Each is more ridiculous than the last
Their towards musical success
Are more than a stumble into complete failure}

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

Remix, uh, remix, boy, uh, feel me
me, clown boy, remix, uh
Girl, I gotta let you know, on
I wanna you from head to toe
Girl, your perfume, smelling so sweet
I wanna make love, between the

Girl, my song, while 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 make you dance
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we go wrong
Girl, we radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we can't go
Girl, so you my boy, I don't give a fuck

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