Luyện nghe bài hát Land of the Gun

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

Yo, Ticket to ride, the crime, highway
Bring all the guns, the funds come my way
Whether we deliverin' grade
To the people in the pit of the
Or dabble in the hood like fly
Lock and in the range with rock the globe
Made any aim
Til the leadbelly control
In the hold of the paper fold
At one was related to gold
Made 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 plans
Can you really see the til it happens to you
Its so what the hopeless will do

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

Got me running the streets
That reek of the dead, its food to the wealthy
My niggaz on welfare, nobody up healthcare
Nothing but heat, how you tell me it ain't hell here?
George Bush having a year
Swingin' the gat, ready to clap, on the map
You done seen what bring to Iraq
Now bring it back to the source, of the physical force
of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun!

This is the place the cops rush in the building
Paramilitary death squads murder your
Empty shell of a man shots in the air
Soldiers out there, but nobody cares
Prepare for the future but note of the past
Or be to live it again and get blast
Class kept outta the news
Replaced by a corporation's political
this is where the guns are manufactured and sold
The land that was stripped of all of its gold
Old on the death bed speakin' the wisdom
crucified by conservative Christians
Now we all got to die in the street
But the difference is of us die in a week
Than die in a year I made it clear
I stand when the line is drawn
But now the is gone
And nigga anything
The land where the guns let anything grow
And what the fuck you niggaz know about living in
You not built like me you never lived in a
You gambled with your soul
Fuck the ice on hand, gun in your palm
But you got a niggaz life in your
Young man, just that slicing a gram
Is a bloody game, like throwin' in a fan
My words flow like the rivers thats of Iran
The fertile crescent moon, with the star in the
I reveal the depth of scars when I scribble
I gave you the world, and I ain't even you a little
The martyr is
The prophets are dead and buried, but the message is
And its not down in holy books as a riddle

Now we through the streets, starvin'
On that guerilla
My people stuck in a guerilla
Innocent children in tears
You actin' like the army ain't put here
Military havin' a swell year
Swinging a gat lying in heaven
Living off a blank check after
But I'm have the truth brought to the source
Fight for my land physical force
Speak music, the subliminal course
I need a and a clip, fuck a jag and a Porsche
Land of the gun, land of the gun, of the gun, land of the gun