Luyện nghe bài hát Toy Box

"Ooo, I like this toy. it go. Uw...wait!" (gunshots)

"We're sorry the you are calling is dead"

J]
I was like six, I to get dissed by the chicks
And everyone would chase me and hit me bricks
And rocks and and calling me names
And filled my lunchbox with (eeww!)
When I left school, it was iller
My was a serial killer
And how about that, he'd make me sit in the back
With all his dead on my lap (move!)
I got home, enough of the static
Hammer and tools, up to the attic
Never knew any other girls or
Only my toys, toys,
Bang! Clang! Hammer and
knows I exist, and I'm pissed
But I won't be mentally
Instead I make toys, toys of the
Monday, ringing the
It's all about and tell, might as well
Show all these bastards what I got
Yo, out my toy box!

"Nothing feels better than a harty-harr, right boys and girls"

J]
We got dead bodies you look
All the nerds sitting up got cooked
Others start screaming and making a
So I start handing out toys at last
You like slinkies, we got
mine like to wrap around your face
And stretch, twist,
And your body all over the fuckin room
So come, one at a
Open your gift and what you will
Is a toy, my friend, you'll never forget
It's not everyday that you get your split
You soldiers, we got soldiers
Made with rubber and steel, they look
But I wouldn't just toss em under bed
how you get an axe to the forehead (oww)
And don't let em sit all day
Come home and find you mom, in the hallway
they can be nifty
All the are shifty, haha, in my toy box

"Woooowee, sure sounds like fun!"

J]
That's not a toy, hey, a minute
Don't fuck around, homie, you can lose an eye it
my double blade razor whip chop jimmy
And it's mine, motherfucker, so gimme
You want toys, you come to the place
Try my little toy, Mutilating Mental
Wind him up, let him go all of ya
BANG! serial slaughterer
Your turn, reach in and get
Oh look, he pulled out a rubber
It make a funny sound and BANG!
Blew the fingers off his hand
Don't stop, class ain't yet
I you calling me poindexter
Bookworm brainy, my
into these little creations
Reach in, you might find something
Wicked, scary, bang pickadery
Off your head, a robot with a sword
But now he's looking at me, but for?
"Eh, a minute, I made you
Get them, not me. Eh, a minute, motherfucker."
"Oh, I love record."