Luyện nghe bài hát Revolution

[Society's
We was raised in streets on pork and poison meat
Now i recognize the and bare the mark of the gold teeth
Puff on the rolled and bust on the police
While yall playas are bacon we cook the whole beef.
I put it down plain, i stimulate the and right brain
by cell and frame by frame.
Names, dates, are all inmaterial. i big sick ryhme killer like cereal. i
Burn like venerial, and spit that imperial that climbs right through
The curcitry.
Choake team for their cream but that's as far as we go
Drop shit like seaguls and smash your ego.
I get like stevie and coleco,
Give me 2000 people
One show no seaquel.
Aint no equal in the
I been more evil than men do.
Nasty off the head and the pen too!

verse]
Now im
Easy to on tracks like this
The things change
The more they remain the
games them vidiots
Playin on the brink of
Must be a hockey
Lost in drink
In of plain jane
I think man they think a revolution be pretty in
Now in these new
of these cats dont know how to act
All them criminal acts aint got to do wit rap
One cuffuffed behind them backs in black
Quiet riot ,yall cant one hand clap
Revolution is more than what you and what you see
The mass
Of to society
Together we got 100 of sobriety
clones
Who be flippin like new be surprisin me
out
They just to be in the house
So im a call
I aint no church

[Griff's
I rap
a 16 and half of that
Then eat some mix greens that
My raps niggerish black like
While wack rappers get rich off jibberish
The begging for deliverance"g"
I'm just a hood to deliverance this
L y get into the "sy"
I'm thinkng me and pe should have it on
the menace
He get's more love than
On the road to
Cause revolutions
Finance whips. finance clips our chips
In the ghetto rebelz with some fine azz tits.
No champagne no campaign no ice on my
While bred'z dipp'n on sipp'n on crys
Out of my ethiopian wine on my lips
Still aint the master mind
The mine. hey!!!!

in your dome where the rebelz rome
The greatest weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the

Public the 7th octave we out