Luyện nghe bài hát To Bob Ross With Love

Now who you leave 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.
my verbal sequence as I texturize these tracks
Seven to be exact.
Eliminate the whack with a brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists begin crumbling from my scumbling
As I your audio and visual
Keep my drips minimal, messages
'Cos me and rap go way back, we
So together we one another, that's common sense.
High intensity catches the eye, 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 spot like Basquiat, the heroin
And make my face popular like did to Marilyn.
It's scary when real art gets left behind
they take bullshit and start sellin it to blind folks
But I remain humble as long as Gray continues spinnin hot shit
On his twelve-hundred color wheels of steel.
mass appeal.
Art is art only the real can feel it.
So your eyes and listen.
Combine ears with vision.
Or do it cause you it or for cash

your decision
That's your
That's your

It's I'm torn between two worlds
A and a microphone
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 chose the that I chose.
You know the asshole, don't front.
It inspiration and productivity then a sense of self-worth and in steps depression
back and forth and forth and back.
Should I paint a or record a track?
A gift or a I don't know I'm still undecided
But the years I've found clever ways to hide it.
And those that lack the I have may despise it,
But my made me this way. I thank her everyday.
So tell them kids to coloring outside the lines,
Until 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 happy trees.
And my momma that her baby boy is doing just 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 where he to be.