Luyện nghe bài hát Industrial Revolution

1]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique,

The bling-bling era was cute but it's about to be
I you full of clips like the moon blocking the sun
my metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to
like an escape tunnel in prison I 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 fucking 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 if you shoot me
curse the and laugh when the sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique in your thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
'cause you got jealousy in ya voice like scream
and the primary reason that I hate yall faggots
I've been nice since niggas got over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok that didn't do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker features that'll reach through the speaker
and murder revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and feed his kids mercury
ANR's try jerking me thinking they shots
offered me a and a blanket full of small pox
your all shot, you little fucking trecherous bitches

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

2]
I want fifty three dollars for my collar stand
the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
and packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna twenty years as a government slave
two million people in keep the government paid
in a six by eight cell alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to to the masses
deep in the club the truth, reach for the glasses
I burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you
innocent deep in a casket, fashion
intoxicated of the flow like thugs
you motherfuckers never get me to stop blastin'
your better off Ariel Sharon for compasion
your better off begging for points for a label
your better off battling cancer under cabels
chemically unstable, set to explode
foretold by the dead sea scrolls in codes
so if your message ain't shit, the records you sold
'cause if you go platinum, it's got to do with luck
it just means a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in and rose to the limit
without managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary 2, murder the critics
and leave your body rotten for the roaches and crickets