Luyện nghe bài hát Parole

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

[Immortal
Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm never going back
Never selling heroin, never selling crack
work for the government coke packagin
Don't indiscriminate, with the mac again
My people are stuck behind glass a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck, just like the
Second chance, faith based, two-faced
Every time we come back, they... rewinds]
I'm out of jail, and I'm never going again
Never heroin, never selling crack again
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, never selling crack
Don't for the government coke packagin
Don't fire indiscriminate, with the mac
My people are stuck behind glass like a
They pretend to give a fuck, just like the
Second chance, faith based, two-faced
Every time we back, they keep on cashin in
Prison labor, third-world sweatshop
'til we kidnap the whole garrison
Yeah, poverty, makes do, reckless things
But corporations do to protect they bling
Prisons are more, than the rap game
They say you more likely to go to jail with a black
that 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 and criminal enterprises
O.G.'s as advisors
Before they, send us to war, after divide us
But I won't let 'em use us like Teddy Roosevelt's Rough
My movement's a jujitsu kata
I graduated outta prison, so my alma mater nigga

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

[Immortal
I'm on parole, and I'll never be alone
Fuck place baby, I'm comin home again
wrapped around me so I'll, never be cold again
Never have to knock a nigga out, for the phone
Prison the place that you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with food in your abdomen
Middle passage, bottom of the ship, how pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some shit, sweeter than saccharin
Jailhouse without corroborating evidence
Niggaz sellin niggaz out for to be, Benjamins
But now I'm free, hit the block, eatin
Benihana in and out, flow to eat to in
Newspaper pencillin, tryin to pay the again
Ex-con job interview, answerin
violent from the frustation I got pent up in
But not tryin to go back to the place, I was up in
Turn my own around, fuck the establishment
to hip-hop like "Where the fuck the talent went?"
How the fuck did you replace, lyrics your swaggerin?
I'ma fix that, on with the mag-a-num
I roll up in a caravan, full of Africans
My got, more soldier niggaz than the Saracens
Cause just (watch!) when the terrorists attack again
Their reaction's gonna be 'em and send us back again

I'm on parole, and never be alone again
Fuck this place baby, I'm comin home
Shorty wrapped around me so I'll, be cold again
Never have to knock a nigga out, for the again
Prison the place that you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with nasty in your abdomen
passage, bottom of the ship, how they pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake shit, sweeter saccharin
I'm on