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 rapid
I'll make a mess, you dissect it and sense of it,
Then get to me at your earliest convenience.
Check my sequence as I texturize these tracks
Seven to be exact.
Eliminate the whack a firm brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists crumbling from my scumbling technique
As I tweak audio and visual
Keep my drips minimal, subliminal
me and rap go way back, we compliment
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 deep, my lights bright.
I'm very thorough my chiaroscuro inspiration spark and a knife
Now watch me rock the like Basquiat, minus the heroin
And make my face like Andy did to Marilyn.
It's kinda scary real art gets left behind
While they bullshit and start sellin it to blind folks
But I remain humble as long as Squirrel continues spinnin hot shit
On his twin twelve-hundred color of steel.
Fuck appeal.
Art is art only the real can feel it.
So open eyes and listen.
Combine your ears vision.
Or do it you love it or for cash

your decision
That's decision
That's your

It's like I'm between two worlds
A paintbrush and a
A canvas or a
CD or LP
Anything goes when my ink pen
And God only knows where its gonna bring me
So I'm inclined to like paint rhymes and spit kaleidoscopes with one eye
And I suppose if you the path that I chose.
You the cycle asshole, don't front.
It goes inspiration and then a sense of self-worth and in steps depression
Like back and and forth and back.
I paint a picture or record a track?
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 I have may despise it,
But my momma me this way. I thank her everyday.
So tell them kids to keep outside the lines,
Until they lose they limitations and minds is free.
Tell them teachers that you your money back this time,
And Bob Ross for all the happy little trees.
And tell my momma her baby boy is doing just fine,
he's running out of patience, but his mind is free.
And tell my that I'll pay his money back sometime
And that his son is two steps away where he needs to be.