Luyện nghe bài hát Ridiculoid

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

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

When I send a sickness (ease down) soldiers
fallin in with flying
and bad programs of
that remind me of the sexiest of slow
I a glock or fiver murder the group by numbers
I was nursed by the biggest of
and had the volcanic cap
that the butcher have attached to his mother
now this material might with a twitch and live for the twisted shit
of *boy scouts* getting pistol whipped
electronic fold
the realest is the one that talks out loud to you
the plug is corroded out
and they say productivity is up this month but I've my passion
sick of waiting in line for my chocolate ration
its bad and industrial sadness
never by tofu franks or sadistic maggots
this is more random
I walk door to Mormon style spitting my sick tantrums
because I wasn't handsome
now that my life's complete with a capacity to push greatness
with beats that have to be
as sex offenders represented to the
I'll your face with the acid inside my stomach
and purge, we live in thirty second blurbs
and if consumers stopped existing we'd forget how to use
fuckin' eat each other til the next *ice age* occurs
or at the source scratchin our heads like "what happened??"
if the kids disclosed that you all lost if you just ask them
out to plant that sits and looks pretty
to attract curious intersection angels in the city
that's below any self-respecting actress in a german schiester
who doggie dick and human feces
my tap buttons with sanctified awareness
from heart scan to pulse
this a voice from a dead without astral projection
the sluggish rugged discuss bunk hovers
lab rat escape barely breathing through the heating vents
I'll try to come back for my family before the feeding commence
but if I should exhaust God's patience on *someone* better my place nigga
'em it's the love that got me this far
and in my dreams I see their faces and...

Murderers is like that clap sandals
hand sand off tools and I can't on two
amped off booze wheelie my ancle bruised
on the block with a mint ?ellie?
watch young hop scotch with the pink jellies
that's me trying to wop
with the longness and
til it's nauseous a raw dog straight out of the orphanage often
lost in a realm tryin to find
strapped like a marksman with that'll off kids mad hi
got my wrapped in a coffin resurrect thoughts in amorphous
morph into Aquaman polyin in waters to dolphins
to get bilingual spittin ?charm? tryin to get it on
and spit a thorn that'll split a form in half math
light 'dro Eaton's love with ash
spit bats that stick to
sip and twist off caps when you fuckin with the sickest cats

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

See I
fist
metal

came out the womb of a phoenix expect less
then a flame velocity's my plane my thought is my train
the galaxy's the sun is the heart and the black hole's the brain
my verse, *ain't nothin the same*.
I leave your mouth open when standin
(the the midget) esophagus is the cannon
unknown the upper hand on overstandin watch the landin
believe it or not I'm on air
of America's heroes here to close the circle
I still remember the days of
a daily struggle but I hold the vision
hip hop at it's when it lacked television
and wasn't an emcee
you know the flows be and if you check the rhyme slowly
you'll find out is unseen like Jarobi
and most likely openin doors the psyche
if a Mikey, they'll eat anything
starving but or crush anything
not stars from the songs we sing this ridiculoid