Luyện nghe bài hát Sons and Daughters

We're the sons and daughters of the poor man, the class man,
Forced to serve by the rich man's hand. This is the perspective
Of a poor dead man's son, another kid had to run, another life
Struggling in the age of the gun. Running was temporary, I tripped
Up and I fell. I've learned from they wanted: Silent people living
In hell, where taught there's a price for every man and a price for
piece of land. Thrown into a life of stagnance, your mind's a Jail.
You're for profit and you were born to fail. Sometimes stepping out
Of line and walking away from all you know is the hardest thing to
Behind. A new life defined, now we can defy the greedy men the greenest
Of minds. We never to be seen as a commodity, I refuse to be an
of a vision that blinds me.
Aggression.
I gotta the mold.
Aggression.
let them take control.
Aggression.
Hands in shackles, confined to a cage.
Aggression.
I won't stop I've broken every chain.