Luyện nghe bài hát Food Clothes and Shelter

Yeah...for all my peoples that's

A nigga need food, ya got to have for ya health
And clothes, gear to keep a for yaself
Son, shelter, a to lay for rest when ya stressed
Over life, 'cause it's trife and aint no god gon ya

I feel the heart creepin...vicious as the wind, which is life,
when it's deep without a meanin...a trife it screams
Niggas fiendin...the dream and some be seemin
like the only way to breathin in the slums...but nothing comes
And funds is like dreamin...
my situation no solution...even the young demons
Where I'm from shit is unyielding...Something like three-hundred
gun wielding rats trapped in one building
low ceilings...and no feelings...
cutthroat villains... Dope dealings...and glossy pavilions
Sunken faces...and traces...
My people slave for the basics...the powerless in the matrix
Of politics, and glass pipes...
From gun blast and flickin off blunt ash...the cash
The life... where the have-nots rule
Stick and plots...toting tools, victim last by some jewels
Round the world, we stuck in capsules...shackled
And crackas got homes like
I figure the only way nigga got to go is wild
Plottin licks for liberation...stockin cap

x2]

I was born in the storm gun clap from thunder
See my childhood peers...catchin by the number
I wake up from hunger...try to lift my that I'm under
How I made it far makes me wonder
You in a for ya life, for basic human rights
Can't afford the boomin prices...it's economic
Life is a sacrifice, I'm down to my last bag of
They forcin us to live like mice
Like fuckin mice that's right
You wear the camaflouge...but do u choose to the soldiers life
I u before this is a war not a play fight
Taught to be a slave from the to the gravesite
of us even share the views of the Kaina Knights
Tryna be white...but they gon lose in game of life
So dead that! I tie my back and scheme...
Put a star on my red and green...

x2]

What do mean, our team
seem to think it means cream
our dreams got us fiendin for the power son
And huey p said power come from the barrel of the gun
What do mean, I believe in thieving
And smoking weed, 'cause everything for a reason
I hope my grow up and get even, it's open season
And if you and black, you know the reason...yeah