Luyện nghe bài hát Revolution

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

verse]
Now im
Easy to rhyme on tracks like
The more change
The more they remain the
games them vidiots
Playin on the brink of
Must be a rink
in their drink
In of plain jane
I think man they a revolution be pretty in pink
Now in these new
Some of these dont know how to act
All them acts aint got nuttin to do wit rap
One hand behind them backs in black
Quiet riot ,yall cant hear one clap
Revolution is more than you hear and what you see
The mass
Of to society
Together we got 100 years of
These
Who be flippin like new phones be me
out
They happy just to be in the
So im a emout
I aint no church

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

Back in your dome the rebelz rome
The greatest weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the of the oppressed

enemy the 7th octave we out