Luyện nghe bài hát Scribble On A Clean Surface

[uncredited spoken word poet forms the intro]
I had forgotten the incredible butter softness of his fingers.
How they felt on my when he slow-dragged with me,
at a "Blue Lights in the Basement" party.
The dim lights making his eyes barely visible as he,
A PENLIGHT IN MY EYES!
"Look directly the light this time."

I say look into the
See what you look

I scribble on a clean surface, the and worthless {*echoes*

It's life, at the tunnel of the point of {*echoes*
Aiyyo got a microphone, AND a AK {*echoes*
Make way, and prepare for the melee

The method of my madness NEVER be known
The magic of Aceyalone
Don't, try to set home or off of the
wigs are known to be SPLIT

And a, fan is known to be hit shit

Rubber band that snap back in place
Rap in they face, get this motherfucker outta
He way way way WAY too much
Spit for the victory, 'til sick of me

I never in the bickery or trickery
There's no con-FUSION, just the
No il-LUSION, cause God rule

Held high, in the sky
The artistic eye you mystified
You're once denied, soon openly

They say, "rock you don't stop" but what you bout
Well let me guess, you fi test

But test not he who best, put nonsense to rest
Preachin on a soapbox, on the block

Choke on your tongue, smoke the gun
in the middle, I hope you're havin fun
HIGH post, high dose, strung
through the lungs, spirit of the young
Salt on the slug, with the plug

Fought with the drugs, by the thugs
Eye of a tiger, of a lion

Walkin the interior of Siberia
Chip away at the rock, or a block

Right they had to stop, we continue
Think the worst, ink into the
Sink into the earth, die by the end of the
What a rush, too to discuss
I it up by sayin this