Luyện nghe bài hát Valentine's Day Massacre

[Mad

slightly schizophrenic borderline
sensational recreational
I thought I it but I found it
marches along till I'm surrounded
inspired by fire the sensual
between the crossfire anger and confusion
howl at the moon black blanket that's
im rarely romantic plowing through tramps and harlots madchild tails of the unwanted
not to be for granted
my past has come and haunted for real
I've all ready danced with death. a dozen roses
I pose with breath
be afraid a place magic is made
I'll rain on your parade with silver blades
I'm creepin over the fence through your back yard
my states intense
savage on the rocks with a twist
now scream and shake your
cause are made of this

[Thirdrail

for real the opposite transmit
Roamin' the with automatics and back packs
jacks for Big Macs, accumulatin' stacks to make G's Nigga please, you artificial

You dropped somethin', it's heart
An' it's still pumpin', pumpin' you from existence
It seems to be absolutely mandatory, you be manipulatin' skin
But no way, you fake I can trace out your image
Even though you don't cast one, I smell a rat, I'm smellin'
back at least 150 inches,
You brew tea? an I know you know I can it
the nostrils innocently mixed with 6 hostile stenches
Henceforth the swings dinging, we bring whip to bleed scalps
Swingin' out your mouth
How long you been Too long!
You're abiding and aiding a felon, to switch your
Droppin' grammar a judges hammer
I you mark, feel me feel your chart
You gotta be real an you gotta to have
You gotta to be real an you to have heart

Stir the blur, nuts and whirl
Stored in ports, 4 strong boxes of 10 floors
Shift the weight towards the door, in hopes of
When hands on cord, the blazing roof creates
Sound break, concord, eye of the
Hand of a saboteur, your in for
A war that pours coarse of into cords
by the young ones, put me on tour
No folk horsemen for poison, pour in skin pores

[Big

rhymers, metamorphize their cartoon characters
Grafted Africa, in this game you got no stature
Not even a in this
shit makes me yawn
Snatch your heart out your like a '96 ghetto spawn
Antonym of urban, too feminine for cut-throat mentality
Have ? thoughts in my area, you get out your Suburban
with no antidote, in this ? your age get broke
Runnin' gun smoke, ballin' never rumin'
Silver crumbin' from flavour
Soon will be no overseer to save ya
I delve, tell your podiatrist it's a size 12
National ? Soldiers, a swine
A snake no spine, I'll see you, I peeped you
see blue, the fake:
A quick is your fate
Now, I got to do