Luyện nghe bài hát To Bob Ross With Love

Now who you know the scene messier than canvases by Jackson Pollock
Throwing thoughts at a rapid pace?
I'll make a mess, you dissect it and make of it,
Then get back to me at earliest convenience.
Check my verbal sequence as I texturize tracks
Seven to be exact.
Eliminate the with a firm brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists crumbling from my scumbling technique
As I tweak your audio and
Keep my minimal, messages subliminal
me and rap go way back, we compliment
So together we enhance one another, common sense.
intensity catches the eye, your jaw drops
Be a real critic, not explicit with props.
I keep my darks deep, my bright.
I'm very thorough with my chiaroscuro inspiration and a knife
Now watch me rock the spot like Basquiat, the heroin
And make my face popular Andy did to Marilyn.
It's scary when real art gets left behind
While they take bullshit and start sellin it to blind
But I remain humble as as Gray Squirrel continues spinnin hot shit
On his twin color wheels of steel.
Fuck appeal.
Art is art only the real can feel it.
So open your and listen.
Combine your ears vision.
Or do it cause you love it or for

That's decision
That's your
your decision

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