Luyện nghe bài hát Suplexes Inside of Complexes and Duplexes

is madness!
This is an (echo)
As a of fact, this is outrageous

Yeah, sire, slap the fuck out Jon Cryer
Rough rider, raw inside a vagina
Like I kids, my head continues to be haunted
I burn a down while I'm unconscious, baby go on
Take some quaaludes, with Jesus
practice with the motherfucking ghost of Babe Ruth
Do as a do, turn painful to graceful
Devil on my trails, I'm trying to the Holy Grail
Right
And if Mars is the farthest that man has set his
I don't know why I even started
I'm of being too nice to people who don't do shit but consume light
myself, "Fuck the world kid, just do what you like"
Go and have a food fight, start yourself a new
You're too bright to be a bunch of mediocrity
But all big words ain't gonna get you paid
And those abstract ideas for sure get you laid
You got it made in that mad
What the you got to be sad about?
Go a rap now, do what you do best, I mean
what you do best, matter fact motherfucker
You suit vest, you need to buy a new
I you and your girl live in a duplex
I'm a put her ass in a Suplex, the sun east, the moon
You got a clue, what does a clue

My & honey, my Cherie-Cherie Amour
My Cinderella in her carriage by the
Her ruby slipper made the wizard the scarecrow
And the through the forest
To the wicked fortress where she scorched them in the foreplay
Remember that? He he'd fight the box to see the wizard
When he was visited by Dorothy who came on a blizzard
Now the world's in color, still,
How Auntie Em was of kin and not her mother
Real, her face was
I suspected she migrated to Kansas up from
And had beef Mrs. Gulch from the very beginning of Year One
Mr. Candyman, the parabolic
The poetry's like the and songs of Ecclesiastes
Lightning should strike the stone and then Moses make a tablet
The Judge will bang the wood up in parliament with the
And "Hear, Hear," finally some order to this rap shit
Finally some sort of water to soil these lips
I keep my crispy and elegant,
So miss me the irrelevant, the god body is heaven-sent
The is reverence, since the son of Byford
Brother of Fal, every rhyme's
Every is kosher, livin' la vida loca
Shout out to Tony Toca, we ballin' like we to