Luyện nghe bài hát Land of the Gun

[James Nichols Bowling for Columbine]
people, law enforcement, if you want to call them that
were here and they were in their shoes. They were physically
shaking, scared to death. Because certain people, said I'm a
I'm a wild man, I got a gun under arm, if you say anything
I'll shoot you. If the find out how they've been
ripped off, and enslaved, they will with the blood
running in the

Yo, Ticket to ride, the white crime,
Bring all the guns, the funds will my way
we deliverin' high grade
To the people in the pit of the
Or in the hood like fly weights
Lock and load in the with rock the globe
Made any aim
Til the leadbelly lost
In the hold of the that fold
At one time was to gold
many men lose their soul
To the of the dice that roll
How can a light so bright a man so cold?
So another man's unfold
Can you see the truth til it happens to you
Its so what the hopeless will do

Ain't no pickin' position to beginning your life
Not man want to stand by his kids and his wife
Too many lost kids in the
Hand on heat, grippin' it
Any man want beef could get it
Followed by flame to put a permanent end
To the of men
Class session, too many the the last lesson
Often taught like the wars that are often
As old as
Now outta his damn
on the gunpowder landmine
Ready to at any second
I'm checking for the of the end
Of all-time, I figure its on time, my last forming the rhyme

Got me running the streets
That reek of the dead, its more food to the
My niggaz on welfare, nobody up healthcare
but heat, how you gonna tell me it ain't hell here?
George Bush a swell year
Swingin' the gat, to clap, anything on the map
You done seen what they bring to
Now it back to the source, land of the physical force
Land of the gun, land of the gun, of the gun, land of the gun!

This is the place where the cops in the building
Paramilitary squads murder your children
Empty of a man rippin' shots in the air
dying out there, but nobody cares
Prepare for the but make note of the past
Or be condemned to live it again and get
Class warfare kept the news
Replaced by a political views
Cause this is the guns are manufactured and sold
The that was stolen stripped of all of its gold
Old timers on the death bed the wisdom
Immigrants crucified by conservative
Now we all got freedom to die in the
But the is more of us die in a week
they die in a year I made it clear
Where I stand when the is drawn
But now the is gone
And nigga goes
The where the guns don't let anything grow
And what the fuck you niggaz know about living in
You not built like me you lived in a cell
You never gambled with your
Fuck the ice on your hand, gun in your
But you got a niggaz life in hand
Young man, just that slicing a gram
Is a game, like throwin' mice in a fan
My words flow like the rivers thats west of
The fertile crescent moon, the star in the middle
I reveal the of history's scars when I scribble
I gave you the world, and I ain't charged you a little
The is crippled
The prophets are dead and buried, but the message is
And its not written down in holy as a riddle

Now we running through the streets,
On that guerilla
My people stuck in a warfare
Innocent children in tears
You actin' like the ain't put hell here
Military industry havin' a year
Swinging a gat lying in heaven
Living off a blank check 9/11
But I'm have the truth back to the source
for my land with physical force
Speak through music, the subliminal
I need a tech and a clip, a jag and a Porsche
Land of the gun, of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun