Luyện nghe bài hát Reheated Pop!

Buy my posthumous
My colorfully packaged disembodied
Converted to ring used in car ads
Sung by winged gnomes over the of Dick Clark
Cover pages graced by the chiseled abs
Of now charred slab of dead pop diva
Recreated as the of Biz Mark
on top of Hello Kitty
On a virtual land mass with a
lip-synched to my song and committed to telecine
And the nothing left of me is left to bask in a flash

I've never been so successful 'till I
And my label wished my heavenly
Pre-board
I didn't die in a of gunfire
I died doing extreme at a resort
On a bungee cord on a ski
No need to ask how a dead can be a label's cash cow
They record me months before on G-funk string chords
Add an R&B
Hit a key to punch
though I'm dead

I was booked on a
To exhaust notes dressed a cockroach
Now I'm and ate with a fork and knife
As your pop sensation

I'm framed under a caption "prog-rap"
And given god smacks
By partisan zealots who not think I draft-dodged Iraq
But my back catalog is wack
And for it I be flogged and smacked
But little do they know I'm dead
And their complaints are and petty
My was broadcast and shot on a webcam
I'm a dead man with golden in my bedpan

But still my pop song
And you can buy it when you shop
Prop my lifeless up next to the podium as I accept applause
I'm an award-winning dead
a tour pending and a celebrity love interest
I signed a movie deal to a starring role
The film crew even suspect I'm dead
I'm your own
I'm but don't unplug my phone charger