Luyện nghe bài hát Rhyme or Reason

(What's name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I have one

My reproduced like a komodo dragon
And had me on the of a motorcycle
Then crashed in the side of loco-motive with rap, I'm
It's like handing a psycho a handgun
with a paint gun in a tantrum
About to explode all over the
with the Yoda of rap in a spasm
(Your music has them)
(But waned for the game your it hasn't)
(Follow you must, Rick Rubin my Padawan)
A in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertaining
But docile and impossible to and, I'm also vain and
Probably find a way to complain a Picasso painting
Puke Skywalker, but sound like when I talk
Full of blind rage I need a seeing eye dog
Can't even find the page, I was writing rhyme on
Oh, it's on a rampage, couldn't see what I I write small
It says ever since I drove a 79 Lincoln with walls
Had a fire in my heart, and a dire to aspire, to Die Hard
So as long as I'm on the clock punching this time
Hip hop ain't on my watch

But sometimes, when I'm sleeping, she to me in my dreams
Is she taken? Is she mine? Don't got, don't care, don't have two to give
Let me take you by the hand to promise
And threaten everyone, cause there's no rhyme or no reason for

(Whats name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I don't know him, but I
(Is he like me?) Ha-ha
(Has he taken, any time, to show you you need to live?)

No! If he had, he wouldn't have ended up in these on my pad
I be so mad, my attitude wouldn't be so bad, yeah, dad
I'm The epitome and the example of what happens
When the power of the rhyme into the wrong hands, and
you want to get up and start dancing
Even if it is Manson who just happens, To be rapping
Blue flashing, laughing all the way to the bank
in my K-Mart mansion, I'm in the style department
With a pile in my car, ripping the aisle
With power comes absolutely no responsibility, for content
Completely, despondent, and
The king of nonsense and is on, a
Beat spree, your honor, I must, plea
Guilty, I sparked a, Revolution
Rebel without a cause, who the evolution of rap
To take it to the next level, it
But several it, and whoever produced it
(Hip hop is the devil's music) Is that me? It to me?
'Cause I just happen to be, a white devil with two horns
don't honk but every time I speak you, hear a beep?
But lyrically I hear a peep, not even a whisper
Rappers better stay clear of me,
its the...

It's the time of the season, hate runs high
And this time, give it to you easy, when I take what's mine
pleasured hands, and torture everyone, that is my plan
My job isn't done, cause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing

(What's your name?)
(Who's your daddy?) I don't a fuck, but I wonder
(Is he rich me?) Doubt it, ha
(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you to live?)

So yeah dad walk
have us a father and son talk
But I bet we wouldn't get one block
Without me knocking your off
This is all fault
Maybe why I'm always so bananas
I appeal to all those walks of
had strife
Maybe that's what dad and son are like
Cause I related to the of young America
When their fucking parents unaware of their troubles
Now ripping out their fucking hair again
a stare ruckle, I chuckle
Cause everybody bloodies bare knuckles
Yeah, uh oh, better knuckleheads
The sound of my says don't knock
The doors broken, it lock
It just fly open, get cold cocked
You critics pay me a visit
Misery loves company, please a minute
to a hypocrite
Zip your lip if you it but can't take it
Too getting stoned in your glass house
To kick rocks, then you why I lash out
Mister as advertised on the flyers
So spread the cause I'm promoting my passion til I'm passed out
A brain dead Rainman
Doing a in a restraint chair
So bitch, if you shoot me a it better be a blank stare
Or get shanked in the pancreas, I'm than
All 8 of the reindeer put together with Chief
Cause I hate every fucking thing,
Even this rhyme bitch, and tryna look
For a fucking for it that ain't there
But I am a criminal
Ten year old grabbing on my genitals
The last LP that went diamond
This time I'm predicting this one will go
When will the end, how can it when
There's no to the pad and pen
The only message that I to sing is
Dad, I'm at it again