Luyện nghe bài hát Valentine's Day Massacre

[Mad

slightly schizophrenic borderline
sensational recreational
I I lost it but I found it
marches along till I'm surrounded
inspired by the sensual illusion
caught the crossfire anger and confusion
howl at the moon black that's starlit
im rarely romantic plowing through tramps and harlots madchild prevails tails of the
not to be for granted
my past has come and haunted for real
I've all ready danced with death. a black roses
I pose babies breath
be afraid a place where magic is
rain on your parade with silver razor blades
I'm creepin over the fence crawlin your back yard
my states intense
savage penetration on the with a twist
now scream and your fists
dreams are made of this

[Thirdrail

for real the transmit telepathic
Roamin' the flats with and back packs
Doin' for Big Macs, accumulatin' stacks to make G's Nigga please, you artificial

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

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

Nous]

Soft rhymers, their cartoon characters
Grafted Africa, in this game you got no stature
Not a factor in this
Whole shit makes me
Snatch your heart out your like a '96 ghetto spawn
of urban, too feminine for this cut-throat mentality
Have ? thoughts in my area, you get out your Suburban
Fallacy no antidote, in this ? your age get broke
Runnin' from gun smoke, ballin' rumin'
Silver crumbin' from flavour
Soon there be no overseer to save ya
When I delve, tell your podiatrist it's a 12
National ? Soldiers, leakin' a
A with no spine, I'll see you, I peeped you
see blue, the fake:
A quick death is fate
Now, I got to do