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?
make a mess, you dissect it and make sense of it,
Then get back to me at your convenience.
Check my verbal sequence as I texturize tracks
layers to be exact.
Eliminate the with a firm brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists begin from my scumbling technique
As I your audio and visual
my drips minimal, messages 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 critic, not explicit with false props.
I keep my deep, my lights 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 face popular like did to Marilyn.
It's scary when real art gets left behind
While they take bullshit and start it to blind folks
But I humble as long as Gray Squirrel continues spinnin hot shit
On his twin twelve-hundred wheels of steel.
mass appeal.
Art is art the real can truly feel it.
So open your and listen.
Combine your ears vision.
Or do it cause you love it or for

That's your
your decision
That's your

It's like I'm between two worlds
A and a microphone
A or a beat
CD or LP
goes when my ink pen flows
And God only knows where its gonna me next
So I'm inclined to like rhymes and spit kaleidoscopes with one eye closed
And I if you chose the path that I chose.
You the cycle asshole, don't front.
It goes inspiration and productivity a sense of self-worth and in steps depression
Like back and forth and and back.
Should I paint a or record a track?
A gift or a curse? I don't know I'm still
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 kids to keep coloring outside the lines,
they lose they limitations and they minds is free.
Tell them teachers that you want your back this time,
And Bob Ross for all the happy little trees.
And tell my momma that her baby boy is just fine,
Although he's running out of patience, but his is free.
And tell my pops that I'll pay his money back
And that his son is two steps away from where he to be.