Luyện nghe bài hát Radio Stars

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

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

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

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

{The attempts never cease
The moronic musical continues to insult
The intelligence of the savvy
How much can an audience be asked to endure?}

Didn't work, ah fuck, happened?
They always told us that we at rapping
Well I don't know how to play a
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 played next
Show me a dick, and I'll show you a Hummer
we go, oh my God

Joey in love with a college girl
She had a backpack and a pony
She said her was Lisa but I do not know
She disco lemonade and cherry jello
I can put my Buddy Holly on
I can even sing one of these songs
I can wear checkered and never smile
cool for your radio dial
Toby fell in with a college

borish, bumbling buffoons are baffled in their journey
Through the music
Each is more ridiculous than the last
Their strides musical success
Are more than a stumble into complete failure}

That was bullshit, what the fuck? You think of
I'm sitting trying to write 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 with each
We need to talking about relationships and lovers. why?
Can you No, neither can I
If gonna be radio stars, we at least gotta try

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

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

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