Luyện nghe bài hát Reheated Pop!

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

never been so successful 'till I died
And my label my heavenly chariot
Pre-board
I didn't die in a of gunfire
I died 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 before on G-funk string chords
Add an R&B
Hit a key to punch
Even I'm dead

I was on a fortnight
To exhaust notes dressed a cockroach
Now I'm cooked and ate with a fork and
As your reheated pop

I'm framed under a reading "prog-rap"
And given open-handed god
By partisan who not only 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 small and
My was broadcast and shot on a webcam
I'm a man with golden blood in my bedpan

But my pop song climbs
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 dead
With a tour pending and a love interest
I a movie deal to play a starring role
The crew doesn't even suspect I'm dead
I'm your own
I'm but don't unplug my phone charger