Luyện nghe bài hát To Bob Ross With Love

Now who you know leave the scene messier than 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 firm stroke.
I paintily.
Lyricists begin from my scumbling technique
As I tweak audio and visual
Keep my drips minimal, subliminal
'Cos me and rap go way back, we
So together we enhance one another, common sense.
High intensity the eye, your jaw drops
Be a real critic, not with false props.
I keep my darks deep, my bright.
I'm very thorough with my chiaroscuro inspiration spark and a
Now me rock the spot like Basquiat, minus the heroin
And make my popular like Andy did to Marilyn.
It's kinda scary real art gets left behind
While take 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 real can feel it.
So open eyes and listen.
Combine ears with vision.
Or do it cause you it or for cash

That's your
your decision
That's your

It's like I'm torn between two
A paintbrush and a
A canvas or a
CD or LP
Anything goes my ink pen flows
And God only knows where its gonna bring me
So I'm inclined to like paint rhymes and kaleidoscopes with one eye closed
And I suppose if you chose the that I chose.
You know the asshole, don't front.
It goes and productivity then a sense of self-worth and in steps depression
Like back and forth and and back.
Should I a picture or record a track?
A gift or a curse? I know I'm still undecided
But over the I've found clever ways to hide it.
And those that lack the passion I may despise it,
But my momma me this way. I thank her everyday.
So tell them kids to coloring outside the lines,
Until they lose they limitations and minds is free.
Tell them teachers that you want money back this time,
And tell Bob Ross for all the little trees.
And my momma that her baby boy is doing just fine,
Although running out of patience, but his mind is free.
And my pops that I'll pay his money back sometime
And that his son is two steps from where he needs to be.