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 sense of it,
Then get to me at your earliest convenience.
Check my verbal sequence as I texturize these
layers to be exact.
Eliminate the whack with a brush stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists begin from my scumbling technique
As I your audio and visual
Keep my drips minimal, messages
'Cos me and rap go way back, we
So together we enhance one another, that's sense.
High intensity the eye, your jaw drops
Be a real critic, not explicit with props.
I keep my darks deep, my bright.
I'm very thorough my chiaroscuro inspiration spark 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 and start sellin 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 only the real can feel it.
So open eyes and listen.
Combine your with vision.
Or do it cause you love it or for

That's your
That's your
your decision

It's like I'm torn two worlds
A paintbrush and a
A canvas or a
CD or LP
Anything 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 know the cycle asshole, front.
It goes inspiration and productivity then a sense of and in steps depression
Like and forth and forth and back.
I paint a picture or record a track?
A gift or a curse? I know I'm still undecided
But over the years I've found ways to hide it.
And that lack the passion I have may despise it,
But my made me this way. I thank her everyday.
So them kids to keep coloring outside the lines,
they lose they limitations and they minds is free.
Tell them teachers that you want money back this time,
And tell Bob Ross for all the little trees.
And tell my that her baby boy is doing just fine,
Although running out of patience, but his mind is free.
And tell my pops that pay his money back sometime
And that his son is two away from where he needs to be.