Luyện nghe bài hát Ridiculoid

Shutup... Yo, yo, yo, yo
My life's not right [check
My life's not [check two]
My not right [check three]
Are you

[El-P] (you know was supposed to be for my album though...?)
[Vast (oh... whateva)
(its ok...)

When I send a sickness (ease down) soldiers
in with flying debris
and bad of landmines
that remind me of the of slow jams
I pull a glock or fiver murder the group by
I was by the biggest of buildings
and had the volcanic cap
the butcher have attached to his dead mother
now this material walk with a twitch and live for the twisted shit
images of *boy scouts* getting whipped
electronic fold
the realest television is the one talks out loud to you
the plug is corroded out
and they say productivity is up month but I've lost my passion
sick of waiting in line for my chocolate ration
its bad health and sadness
helped by tofu franks or sadistic maggots
this is more random
I walk door to door Mormon style spitting my sick
because I born handsome
now that my complete with a capacity to push greatness buttons
beats that have to be registered
as sex offenders to the public
I'll exfoliate your face with the acid inside my
Binge and purge, we live in thirty blurbs
and if consumers stopped we'd forget how to use words
just fuckin' eat other til the next *ice age* occurs
or at the source awards our heads like "what happened??"
if the kids would've that you all lost if you just ask them
out to plant that sits and looks pretty
to curious intersection angels when in the city
that's below any self-respecting in a german schiester film
who gobbled doggie and human feces
my fingers tap buttons sanctified awareness
from heart scan to readings
this a voice from a dead dimension astral projection
the sluggish rugged discuss bunk hovers
Acme lab rat escape barely breathing through the vents
I'll try to come back for my before the poison feeding commence
but if I should exhaust God's on *someone* better take my place nigga
tell 'em it's the love got me this far
and it's in my dreams I see their and...

Murderers is like handles that clap
hand sand off tools and I can't on two
amped off booze with my ancle bruised
on the block silly with a mint
watch ladies hop scotch with the pink jellies
that's me trying to wop
with the and pot-bellied
til it's nauseous a raw dog orphan out of the orphanage often
lost in a realm to find cells
strapped like a marksman with raps that'll off mad hi
got my mind wrapped in a resurrect thoughts in amorphous
morph into Aquaman polyin in waters to dolphins
to get that bilingual spittin tryin to get it on
and spit a thorn that'll split a form in half math
light 'dro Eaton's mixed with ash
spit bats that stick to
sip snapples and twist off caps when you fuckin the sickest cats

[Vast
Yo
My life's not right one]
My life's not [check two]
My not right [check three]
Are you

See I
iron
metal

came out the womb of a expect nothin less
then a mature velocity's my plane my thought is my train
the the body sun is the heart and the black hole's the brain
my verse, *ain't nothin the same*.
I leave mouth open when you're standin
(the word's the midget) esophagus is the
cipher unknown the upper on overstandin watch the landin
believe it or not I'm on air
last of America's heroes here to the circle
I remember the days of Coleco
a struggle but I hold onto the vision
hip hop at it's best when it television
and everybody an emcee
you know the flows be and if you check the rhyme slowly
you'll find out cats is unseen Jarobi
and likely openin doors with the psyche
if it's a Mikey, eat anything
starving but hack or anything
not stars from the songs we this shit's ridiculoid