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 blocking the sun
my metaphors are like herpes but harder to catch
like an escape tunnel in prison I started from
and now these parasites percent of my ASCAP
trying to control like an acid flashback
but a quotable for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like X
but this ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to 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 got better marketing schemes
I leave ya to your own destruction like sparking a
'cause you got in ya voice like star scream
and that's the primary that I hate yall faggots
I've been since niggas got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok Pumps that didn't do for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the
and murder counter revolutionaries
break a thermometer and force feed his mercury
ANR's try jerking me thinking they call
offered me a deal and a blanket full of pox
your all shot, you little fucking trecherous bitches

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

2]
I want fifty three dollars for my collar stand
like the Bush gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna twenty years as a government slave
two million people in keep 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 club toast the truth, reach for the
I burn an orphanage just to heat to you bastards
innocent in a casket, columbian fashion
intoxicated of the like thugs passion
you motherfuckers will get me to stop blastin'
your better off Ariel Sharon for compasion
your better off for twenty points for a label
better off battling cancer under telephone cabels
Technique chemically unstable, set to
foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in
so if your ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
'cause if you go platinum, it's got to do with luck
it means 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 2, murder the critics
and leave fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets