Luyện nghe bài hát Reheated Pop!

Buy my full-length
My colorfully packaged disembodied
to ring tones used in car ads
Sung by winged gnomes over the head of Clark
Cover pages graced by the hard abs
Of now charred slab of dead pop diva
Recreated as the of Biz Mark
Spliced on top of Hello
On a land mass with a hip-kink
It's lip-synched to my song and 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 my heavenly chariot
defunct
I didn't die in a hail of
I doing extreme sports 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 just record me months before on G-funk string
Add an R&B
Hit a key to punch
Even though I'm

I was on a fortnight
To exhaust notes dressed like a
Now I'm cooked and ate a fork and knife
As reheated pop sensation

I'm framed under a reading "prog-rap"
And given open-handed god
By zealots who not only think I draft-dodged Iraq
But my back catalog is wack
And for it I should be flogged and
But little do know I'm dead already
And their are small and petty
My autopsy was broadcast and shot on a
I'm a dead man with golden in my bedpan

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