Luyện nghe bài hát Industrial Revolution

1]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique,

The bling-bling era was cute but it's to be done
I leave you full of clips like the blocking the sun
my metaphors are dirty herpes but harder to catch
like an tunnel in prison I started from scratch
and now these parasites wanna of my ASCAP
trying to control perspective like an flashback
but here's a quotable for every single exec
get your hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X
but ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you me
the heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as good as good as me, they just got marketing schemes
I leave ya to your own destruction sparking a fiend
'cause you got jealousy in ya voice like scream
and that's the primary reason that I hate faggots
I've been since niggas got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Pumps that didn't do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the
and murder revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and force his kids mercury
ANR's try me thinking they call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket of small pox
your all getting shot, you little fucking trecherous

This is the business, and ya'll ain't getting for free
and if you devils play broke, then I'm taking company
you can call it or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial

2]
I want fifty three million for my collar stand
like the Bush gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing grams nigga, learn to and behave
you wanna spend twenty as a government slave
two million people in prison the government paid
stuck in a six by eight alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to to the masses
deep in the toast the truth, reach for the glasses
I burn an orphanage to bring heat to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, fashion
intoxicated of the flow thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to stop
your better off asking Ariel Sharon for
your better off for twenty points for a label
your better off battling under telephone cabels
Technique chemically unstable, set to
foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in
so if your message ain't shit, fuck the you sold
'cause if you go platinum, got nothing to do with luck
it means that a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in and rose to the limit
distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, the critics
and leave fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets