Luyện nghe bài hát To Bob Ross With Love

Now who you know leave the scene messier canvases by Jackson Pollock
multi-colored thoughts at a rapid 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 texturize tracks
layers to be exact.
Eliminate the with a firm brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists begin crumbling from my technique
As I tweak your and visual
Keep my drips minimal, subliminal
'Cos me and rap go way back, we
So we enhance one another, that's common sense.
High intensity the eye, your jaw drops
Be a real critic, not explicit false props.
I keep my darks deep, my bright.
I'm very with my chiaroscuro inspiration spark and a knife
Now watch me rock the like Basquiat, minus the heroin
And make my face popular like did to Marilyn.
It's kinda when real art gets left behind
While they bullshit and start sellin it to blind folks
But I remain as long as Gray Squirrel continues spinnin hot shit
On his twelve-hundred color wheels of steel.
Fuck appeal.
Art is art only the can truly feel it.
So your eyes and listen.
your ears with vision.
Or do it you love it or for cash

That's your
your decision
That's decision

It's like I'm torn two worlds
A paintbrush and a
A canvas or a
CD or LP
Anything goes my ink pen flows
And God knows 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 the path that I chose.
You the cycle asshole, don't front.
It goes and productivity then a sense of self-worth and in steps depression
back and forth and forth and back.
Should I paint a picture or record a
A or a curse? I don't know I'm still undecided
But the years I've found clever ways to hide it.
And those that lack the passion I have may it,
But my made me this way. I thank her everyday.
So tell them kids to coloring outside the lines,
Until they lose they and they minds is free.
Tell them teachers that you want your money this time,
And tell Bob for all the happy little trees.
And tell my momma that her boy is doing just fine,
Although he's running out of patience, but his 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.