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 bust inside a
Like I kids, my head continues to be haunted
I burn a city down while I'm unconscious, go on
Take some quaaludes, conversate Jesus
Batting practice with the ghost of Babe Ruth
Do as a saint do, turn to graceful
Devil on my trails, I'm to find the Holy Grail
there
And if Mars is the farthest that man has set his
Then I don't know why I started
I'm sick of being too to people who don't do shit but consume light
Told myself, "Fuck the kid, just do what you like"
Go and have a fight, start yourself a new life
You're too bright to be a bunch of mediocrity
But all those big words ain't get you paid
And those abstract ideas for sure get you laid
You got it in that mad house
What the fuck you got to be sad
Go ahead a rap now, do you do best, I mean
That's what you do best, fact motherfucker
You suit vest, you need to buy a new
I heard you and your live in a duplex
I'm a put her ass in a Suplex, the sun east, the west
You got a clue, what a clue get?

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