Luyện nghe bài hát Revolution

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

verse]
Now im
Easy to rhyme on like this
The things change
The more remain the same
These games them
Playin on the of insane
be a hockey rink
Lost in their
In of plain jane
I man they think a revolution be pretty in pink
Now in these new
Some of these cats dont how to act
All them criminal acts aint got to do wit rap
One hand cuffuffed them backs in black
Quiet riot ,yall cant hear one hand
Revolution is more than you hear and what you see
The reintroduction
Of society to
Together we got 100 years of
These
Who be flippin like new phones be me
out
They just to be in the house
So im a call
I aint no mouse

[Griff's
I rap
Write a 16 and half of
Then eat some mix greens that
My niggerish black like licorice
While wack rappers get rich off some
The hoods for deliverance"g"
I'm just a figure to deliverance this
L y get into the "sy"
I'm thinkng me and pe have passed it on
Society's the
He get's love than tennis
On the to riches
revolutions expensive
Finance whips. clips spend our chips
In the ghetto rebelz with some fine azz tits.
No champagne no campaign no ice on my
While bred'z on fedz sipp'n on crys
Out of my ethiopian wine on my lips
Still aint signed the master
The mine. hey!!!!

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

Public the 7th octave we out