Luyện nghe bài hát Industrial Revolution

1]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique,

The bling-bling era was cute but about to be done
I leave you full of clips like the moon the sun
my metaphors are dirty like but harder to catch
like an tunnel in prison I started from scratch
and now these parasites wanna of my ASCAP
trying to control like an acid flashback
but here's a for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like X
but this a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to if you shoot me
curse the heavens and laugh the sky electrocutes me
Immortal stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
no as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I leave ya to own destruction like sparking a fiend
'cause you got jealousy in ya voice star scream
and that's the primary that I hate yall faggots
I've been nice niggas got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok that didn't do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features reach through the speaker
and murder revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and feed his kids mercury
ANR's try jerking me thinking they call
offered me a deal and a full of small pox
your all getting shot, you fucking trecherous bitches

This is the business, and ya'll getting nothing for free
and if you devils play broke, then I'm your company
you can call it or restitution
lock and load nigga, revolution

2]
I want fifty million dollars for my collar stand
like the administration gave to the Taliban
and fuck grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna twenty years as a government slave
two million people in prison keep the paid
stuck in a six by eight alive in the grave
i was made by to speak to the masses
in the club toast the truth, reach for the glasses
I burn an orphanage just to bring to you bastards
innocent in a casket, columbian fashion
intoxicated of the flow thugs passion
you will never get me to stop blastin'
better off asking Ariel Sharon for compasion
your better off for twenty points for a label
better off battling cancer under telephone cabels
Technique unstable, set to explode
foretold by the sea scrolls written in codes
so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you
'cause if you go platinum, got nothing to do with luck
it just that a million people are stupid as fuck
in the underground in general and rose to the limit
without distribution managers, a deal, or a
Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the
and leave your fucking body for the roaches and crickets