Luyện nghe bài hát Scribble On A Clean Surface

[uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's
I had forgotten the incredible butter of his long fingers.
How they felt on my back when he slow-dragged me,
at a "Blue Lights in the Basement" party.
The dim lights making his honey-colored barely visible as he,
A PENLIGHT IN MY EYES!
"Look into the light this time."

I say look the light
See you look like

I scribble on a clean surface, the earthless and worthless

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

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

And a, fan is known to be hit with

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

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

high, nailed in the sky
The artistic eye you mystified
once denied, soon openly obliged

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

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

Choke on your tongue, smoke the gun
Broke in the middle, I hope havin fun
post, high dose, high strung
Wind the lungs, spirit of the young
Salt on the slug, caught with the

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

through the interior of Siberia
Chip at the rock, or a dynamite block

where they had to stop, we continue
Think the worst, ink the verse
Sink the earth, die by the end of the rhyme
What a rush, too to discuss
I close it up by this