Luyện nghe bài hát The Message

Broken glass
People on the station
Y'know they just don't
I take the smell
I take the noise
I got no money to out
I I got no choice
Rats in the room
in the back
Junkies in the with a baseball bat
I tries to get away but I get far
Cos a man with a truncheon my car

Don't push me cos I'm to the edge
I'm trying not to my head
It's like a jungle
It makes me wonder how I keep going under

My son said: "Daddy, I don't go to school
Cos the teacher's a jerk, he must I'm a fool
And all the kids smoke reefer I think it'd be
If I got a job learned to be a street sweeper
I'll dance to the beat, shuffle my feet wear a and tie
And run the creeps"
Cos it's all about money a damn thing funny
You got to have a car in this land of milk and
A is born with no state of mind
Blind to the ways of
God is on you but he's frowning too
Because only God knows you'll go through
You'll in the ghetto living second rate
And your eyes will see a song of hate
The places you play and where you
like one great big alleyway

You'll admire all the number takers
The the pushers and the big money makers
Driving great big cars twenties and tens
And you to grow up to be just like them
Smugglers scramblers gamblers
Pickpocket pedlars panhandlers
You say I'm I'm no fool
But you end up dropping right outa school

Now you're unemployed and void
Walking round like Pretty Boy Floyd
Turn up kid look what you done did
Got sent up for an year bid
used and abused to serve like hell
Till one day you was hung dead in the cell