Luyện nghe bài hát Industrial Revolution

1]
Yeah nigga, Technique, metaphysics

The bling-bling era was cute but it's about to be
I leave you full of clips the moon blocking the sun
my are dirty like 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 an acid flashback
but here's a quotable for every single record
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga Malcolm X
but ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me
curse the heavens and laugh when the sky me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts dreams
no ones as good as good as me, they just got marketing schemes
I ya to your own destruction like 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 nice niggas got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok Pumps that didn't do for the sneaker
I'm a with features that'll reach through the speaker
and murder counter personally
break a thermometer and force feed his mercury
ANR's try jerking me they call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket full of 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 it reparations or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial

2]
I want three million dollars for my collar stand
like the Bush administration gave to the
and fuck packing nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna spend twenty as a government slave
two million in prison keep the government paid
stuck in a six by eight alive in the grave
i was made by to speak to the masses
deep in the club toast the truth, for the glasses
I burn an just to bring heat to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, fashion
intoxicated of the like thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to blastin'
your better off asking Ariel Sharon for
your better off for twenty points for a label
your better off battling cancer under cabels
Technique chemically unstable, set to
foretold by the dead sea scrolls in codes
so if your message shit, fuck the records you sold
if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
it just that a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in general and to the limit
without managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, the critics
and leave your fucking body rotten for the and crickets