Luyện nghe bài hát To Bob Ross With Love

Now who you know leave the messier than canvases by Jackson Pollock
Throwing multi-colored thoughts at a pace?
I'll make a mess, you dissect it and make of it,
get back to me at your earliest convenience.
Check my verbal sequence as I these tracks
layers to be exact.
Eliminate the whack a firm brush stroke.
I paintily.
begin crumbling from my scumbling technique
As I your audio and visual
Keep my minimal, messages subliminal
me and rap go way back, we compliment
So together we enhance one another, that's sense.
High intensity catches the eye, jaw drops
Be a real critic, not explicit with props.
I keep my darks deep, my bright.
I'm very thorough with my inspiration spark and a knife
Now watch me rock the spot Basquiat, minus the heroin
And make my popular like Andy did to Marilyn.
It's kinda scary when art gets left behind
While take bullshit and start sellin it to blind folks
But I remain as long as Gray Squirrel continues spinnin hot shit
On his twin twelve-hundred wheels of steel.
Fuck appeal.
Art is art only the real can truly it.
So your eyes and listen.
Combine your ears vision.
Or do it cause you it or for cash

your decision
That's decision
your decision

It's like I'm torn two worlds
A and a microphone
A canvas or a
CD or LP
Anything goes my ink pen flows
And God only where its gonna bring me next
So I'm inclined to like paint rhymes and spit kaleidoscopes one eye closed
And I suppose if you chose the path I chose.
You know the asshole, don't front.
It goes inspiration and productivity then a sense of self-worth and in depression
Like and forth and forth and back.
I paint a picture or record a track?
A gift or a I don't know I'm still undecided
But over the years I've found clever ways to it.
And those that lack the passion I have may it,
But my momma me this way. I thank her everyday.
So tell them kids to keep coloring the lines,
they lose they limitations and they minds is free.
Tell them that you want your money back this time,
And tell Bob Ross for all the little trees.
And tell my momma that her baby boy is doing fine,
Although he's out of patience, but his mind is free.
And tell my pops that I'll pay his money sometime
And that his son is two steps away from he needs to be.