Luyện nghe bài hát Suplexes Inside of Complexes and Duplexes

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

Yeah, young sire, the fuck out Jon Cryer
Rough rider, raw bust a vagina
Like I want kids, my continues to be haunted
I burn a city while I'm unconscious, baby go on
Take some quaaludes, conversate with
Batting practice the motherfucking ghost of Babe Ruth
Do as a saint do, turn to graceful
Devil on my trails, I'm trying to find the Grail
there
And if Mars is the farthest that man has set his
Then I don't know why I even
I'm of being too nice to people who don't do shit but consume light
Told myself, "Fuck the kid, just do what you like"
Go and a food fight, start yourself a new life
You're too to be inside a bunch of mediocrity
But all those big words ain't gonna get you
And abstract ideas for sure won't get you laid
You got it in that mad house
What the fuck you got to be sad
Go a rap now, do what you do best, I mean
That's what you do best, matter fact
You suit vest, you need to buy a new
I heard you and girl live in a duplex
I'm a put her ass in a Suplex, the sun east, the west
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 lion the forest
To the wicked fortress where she scorched them in the foreplay
Remember that? He said he'd fight the box to see the
When he was visited by Dorothy who came on a blizzard
Now the whole in color, still,
How Em was next of kin and not her mother
Real, her face was
I suspected she migrated to Kansas up Dearborn
And had beef Mrs. Gulch from the very beginning of Year One
Mr. Candyman, the parabolic
The like the poems and songs of Ecclesiastes
Lightning should strike the stone and then should make a tablet
The Judge bang the wood up in parliament with the mallet
And yell "Hear, Hear," finally some order to rap shit
Finally some sort of water to soil cracked lips
I my shit crispy and elegant,
So miss me with the irrelevant, the god body is
The hard-body is reverence, the son of Byford
of Fal, every rhyme's halal
Every line is kosher, livin' la vida
Shout out to Tony Toca, we like we suppose to