Luyện nghe bài hát Reheated Pop!

Buy my full-length
My packaged disembodied shriek
Converted to ring tones in car ads
Sung by winged gnomes over the of Dick Clark
Cover pages by the chiseled hard abs
Of now charred slab of dead pop diva
Recreated as the head of Biz
Spliced on top of Hello
On a land mass with a hip-kink
It's lip-synched to my and committed to telecine
And the nothing left of me is left to bask in a flash

I've been so successful 'till I died
And my label my heavenly chariot
defunct
I didn't die in a of gunfire
I died extreme sports at a resort
On a cord on a ski jump
No to ask how a dead rapper can be a label's cash cow
They just 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 cooked and ate a fork and knife
As reheated pop sensation

I'm framed under a reading "prog-rap"
And open-handed 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 do they know I'm dead already
And complaints are small and petty
My was broadcast and shot on a webcam
I'm a man with golden blood in my bedpan

But still my pop song
And you can buy it when you online
my lifeless body 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 play a starring
The film crew even suspect I'm dead
I'm your own
I'm dead but don't unplug my charger