Luyện nghe bài hát The Prediction

[Rich
What's happenin and sisters?
Welcome to our

Care Moore]
Afro-Angels hide my in tangles
Black Star Spangled, fragile like hematite with the oils I write
In spite the lack of sunlight, got my boots tight
Now the government's gone, can't tell your left from your right
We the assassins while the New World's collapsin
Mother Earth's crashed in, armored carways I'm blastin
As the Earth rebels now womb
The of Black Magic, savin my people force of habit
You can't find if you never had it
Spiritually blackness and hair-twisted ghetto embargo lifted
Power-shiftin I predict Goddesses you runnin after witches
I kiss my stitches
Keep all my baby girl
I all the oceans turn dry
Not one baby girl will cry as you attempt to grow from the desert
We will take our pregnant bodies, drink underground rivers
Wash your between our legs
recreating humanity, we will summon yem and yaw
Search for our fertility, ban all pink and yellow
Ban all pink and pills
I predict fields of ghetto armpatch anti-Hatch
Hate groups be bombed
becomes outlawed
Always be branded numbered and barred
All paper is gone
Though few can interpret our scrolls
Your sky has
We know the is old
Nastradamus us how the story gets told