Luyện nghe bài hát Parole

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

Technique]
Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm never back again
Never selling heroin, never selling crack
work for the government coke packagin
Don't fire indiscriminate, with the mac
My are stuck behind glass like a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck, just the Vatican
Second chance, faith based, Samaritans
time we come back, they... [record rewinds]
I'm out of jail, and I'm never going again
Never selling heroin, never crack again
I'm out of jail, and I'm never going again
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
work for the government coke packagin
Don't indiscriminate, with the mac again
My people are stuck glass like a mannequin
They to give a fuck, just like the Vatican
chance, faith based, two-faced Samaritans
Every time we come back, keep on cashin in
Prison labor, third-world comparisons
'til we kidnap the whole garrison
Yeah, poverty, makes people do, reckless
But corporations do to protect they bling
Prisons are more, overcrowded than the rap
They say you more likely to go to jail a black name
Freakonomics that I speak through
and Phonics, little niggaz is (Hooked On) chronic
But if you on stage with the DEA, as hype man
Don't get yourself locked up, and blame the man
We transformed gangs and enterprises
Usin O.G.'s as
Before they, send us to war, after divide us
But I won't let 'em use us like Teddy Rough Riders
My movement's like a jujitsu
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 (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 serious baby, I'm comin (oh my God!)
Put the blue thing on for me, aight?
(You got baby, yeah!)

Technique]
I'm on parole, and I'll be alone again
Fuck this baby, I'm comin home again
wrapped around me so I'll, never be cold again
Never to knock a nigga out, for the phone again
Prison ain't the place that you find your rite of in
It's slavery, with nasty food in your
Middle passage, bottom of the ship, how they 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake shit, than saccharin
Jailhouse snitches without evidence
Niggaz sellin out for true 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, nobody
Feelin violent from the I got pent up in
But not tryin to go back to the place, I was up in
Turn my own life around, fuck the
to hip-hop like "Where the fuck the talent went?"
How the fuck did you replace, lyrics your swaggerin?
I'ma fix that, rhymin on with the
I roll up in a caravan, full of Africans
My squad got, more soldier than the Saracens
Cause watch (watch!) when the terrorists attack again
Their gonna be draft 'em and send us back again

I'm on parole, and I'll never be alone
Fuck this place baby, I'm comin again
Shorty wrapped around me so I'll, never be again
Never have to a nigga out, for the phone again
Prison ain't the place that you find your rite of 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
I'm on