Luyện nghe bài hát Food Clothes and Shelter

Yeah...for all my that's hungry

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

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

x2]

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

x2]

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