Luyện nghe bài hát Valentine's Day Massacre

[Mad

slightly schizophrenic psychotic
sensational narcotics
I I lost it but I found it
temptation marches along till I'm
inspired by the sensual illusion
caught between the anger and confusion
howl at the moon black blanket that's
im rarely plowing through tramps and harlots madchild prevails tails of the unwanted
not to be for granted
my past has come back and for real
I've all ready with death. a dozen black roses
I pose with babies
be afraid a place magic is made
I'll rain on your parade with silver razor
I'm creepin over the fence crawlin your back yard
my mind states
savage penetration on the with a twist
now and shake your fists
cause dreams are made of

Vic]

for real the opposite telepathic
Roamin' the flats with automatics and back
Doin' jacks for Big Macs, accumulatin' stacks to make G's Nigga please, you

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

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

[Big

Soft rhymers, metamorphize their cartoon
from Africa, in this game you got no stature
Not a factor in this
Whole makes me yawn
Snatch your heart out chest like a '96 ghetto spawn
Antonym of urban, too for this cut-throat mentality
Have ? thoughts in my area, you get out your Suburban
Fallacy with no antidote, in this ? age get broke
from gun smoke, ballin' never rumin'
Silver crumbin' from flavour
Soon there be no overseer to save ya
When I delve, tell your podiatrist a size 12
? Soldiers, leakin' a swine
A snake with no spine, I'll see you, I you
see blue, the fake:
A death is your fate
Now, I got to do