Luyện nghe bài hát Parole

[Intro: Technique (parole officer)]
(980505A) nigga what
(You parole) What?
(Pack stuff) The fuck?
(And get the out of here) A-haha
Aiyyo man, it's about time man
Aiyyo G, G son, I got my papers man
I'm out motherfucker!

Technique]
Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm never going back
Never heroin, never selling crack again
Don't work for the coke packagin
Don't indiscriminate, with the mac again
My people are behind glass like a mannequin
pretend to give a fuck, just like the Vatican
Second chance, faith based, Samaritans
Every we come back, they... [record rewinds]
I'm out of jail, and I'm never going back
Never selling heroin, never selling crack
I'm out of jail, and I'm never going back
I'm out of, I'm out of (I'm out motherfucker!)

Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm going back again
Never selling heroin, selling crack again
Don't work for the coke packagin
Don't fire indiscriminate, the mac again
My people are stuck behind glass a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck, like the Vatican
Second chance, faith based, Samaritans
Every time we come back, they on cashin in
Prison labor, sweatshop comparisons
'til we kidnap the fuckin garrison
Yeah, poverty, makes do, reckless things
But do worse to protect they bling
Prisons are more, overcrowded than the rap
They say you more likely to go to with a black name
Freakonomics I speak through ebonics
and Phonics, little niggaz is (Hooked On) chronic
But if you on with the DEA, as your hype man
Don't get yourself locked up, and the white man
We transformed gangs and criminal
Usin O.G.'s as
Before they, send us to war, they divide us
But I won't let 'em use us like Teddy Rough Riders
My movement's like a kata
I outta prison, so FUCK my alma mater nigga

[Interlude: Technique (woman)]
(Hello?) yeah, what's up yo?
(Hey, how you doin?) Yo, you what?
I just got my papers (you're lying!)
Yo I'm comin home to you, I'll see you in a day and a half
([screams] Oh my God, I'm so happy! Are you serious?)
([screams] I'm so happy! Are you serious?)
Yeah, I'm dead serious baby, I'm comin (oh my God!)
Put the little blue on for me, aight?
(You got baby, yeah!)

Technique]
I'm on parole, and I'll never be alone
Fuck this place baby, I'm comin again
Shorty around me so I'll, never be cold again
have to knock a nigga out, for the phone again
Prison ain't the place you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with food in your abdomen
passage, bottom of the ship, how they pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake shit, sweeter saccharin
Jailhouse snitches corroborating evidence
Niggaz niggaz out for true to be, Benjamins
But now I'm free, hit the block, Entenmann's
Benihana in and out, flow to eat to in
pencillin, tryin to pay the rent again
Ex-con job interview, nobody
Feelin violent the frustation I got pent up in
But not tryin to go to the place, I was sent up in
Turn my own around, fuck the establishment
Listenin to hip-hop like "Where the the talent went?"
How the fuck did you replace, lyrics with your
I'ma fix that, rhymin on with the
I roll up in a caravan, of North Africans
My got, more soldier niggaz than the Saracens
Cause just watch (watch!) the terrorists attack again
Their reaction's gonna be 'em and send us back again

I'm on parole, and I'll never be alone
Fuck place baby, I'm comin home again
Shorty wrapped around me so I'll, never be again
Never have to knock a out, for the phone again
Prison ain't the place you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with nasty in your abdomen
Middle passage, bottom of the ship, how pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some shit, sweeter than saccharin
I'm on