Luyện nghe bài hát Radio Stars

{Occasionally, the overwhelming to reach
The pinnacle of the pop music genre, will reduce
The most deplorable examples of the music scene
To attempt to change their so-called endeavors
In a attempt to appeal to the public at large
Behold, the

Uh, fuck platinum, just ain't enough
We need money, more houses and cars and stuff
I'm sick of juggalos, I want them hoes
I want them shitty hoes, you get with radio and
We'll do whatever it takes to get some air
We'll make that shit, triple our sales and pay
Yeah, on Shaggy, What? Follow my lead, let's go
time we change our shit up to get what we need, come on

Uh, play
Yo! yo! Come on and ride me, me
Pull, pull! Come on and hide me, me
Cat black, I'm grow one, gold one
Club cat, you them old ones, old ones
Black, black, look at lady go, lady go
at me, I'm on the radio, radio
Cut, cut, we gonna it away, throw it away
up, give us the radio play, radio play

What? hey! what? what? hey! what?
What? hey
What? hey! what? what? hey! what?
What? hey

{The pathetic never cease
The musical onslaught continues to insult
The intelligence of the savvy
How much more can an audience be asked to

Didn't work, ah fuck, what
They always told us we sucked at rapping
Well I know how to play a guitar
I'll play the skin to be a radio star
I'm of keeping it real, and underground
I want the ten millions fans sell out flavor sound
Even though be played next summer
Show me a radio dick, and I'll you a Hummer
we go, oh my God

Joey fell in love with a girl
She had a and a pony tail
She said her name was Lisa but I do not
She drinks disco and cherry jello
I can put my Buddy Holly on
I can even one of these faggot songs
I can wear pants and never smile
Whatever's cool for your radio
Toby in love with a college

{The borish, buffoons are baffled in their journey
Through the business
Each sonnet is more ridiculous the last
Their towards musical success
Are little more than a stumble complete failure}

That was bullshit, what the fuck? You of something
I'm sitting here trying to write hits, doing nothing
You wrote the crump shit, but did it No
It flopped on its ass, at I tried though
Alright, ain't no need to be with each other
We need to talking about relationships and lovers. why?
Can you No, neither can I
If we're gonna be stars, we at least gotta try

Remix, uh, remix, clown boy, uh, me
me, clown boy, remix, uh
Girl, I let you know, on radio
I wanna lick you from to toe
Girl, your perfume, it's smelling so
I make love, between the sheets

Girl, play my song, I'm on the phone long
I'm a radio man, and I know that I sing, yes I can
Give me one more chance, and make you dance
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for fans, we can't go wrong
Girl, we make radio songs, for radio fans, we go wrong
Girl, so you my boy, I don't give a fuck

{After of endless attempts, ICP received almost no radio play
Finally the two dim idiots
Decided to stay with the shit for life}