Luyện nghe bài hát What's The Word

Mr. Bush, you better out your own part in the divine drama
You may you the Devil

Listen, in 1990
Rock and the gang is on a banned mission
Hostility rule like a Jamaican [Incomprehensible]
And ooh filled with dumplings, no dumpings

Like guns will be present while I the people jumpin'
Not too much, Africa isn't free yet
I spoke to the kids from Brooklyn to
New Jersey, and heard me while I cursed the

White regime, painted an ill scene
Brothers and over there dyin'
Mandela in a cell in Robbin
Thank God out now, and while I sing

I he has things in a full swing, yeah
This year crumb-snatcher Thatcher, gonna catch her
Being a klutz, her husband is a putz
He absurd, now what's the word?

Okay okay, on
okay, come on

Okay okay, on
okay, come on
Okay okay, on
Okay okay, on

If the President, pullin' out my Ray-Gun

Listen, and sisters
It's time for everyone to go
For history, open a book and read
Between the lines, don't recline your

Sometimes I know how to make it understood
That a lot of black movies been tampered by Hollywood
So it's important, take the name and and step
Research it yourself, you owe a large debt

To yourself, history is yours to keep
Or you won't reap in the benefits, don't let Mr.
you something with a zing, to get blissed
Leave the rock to the Nazis, in Yahtzee

Be a bookworm, not a bookend, men
Before you have died so you can taste
If we can't 'em we'll delete 'em, so now
the word?

Okay okay, on
Okay okay, on

okay, come on
Okay okay, on
Okay okay, on
okay, come on

Okay okay, on
okay, come on
Okay okay, on
If he's the President, pullin' out my

history, no physical might has ever crushed
The spirit of a nation
And yes, we are a nation, a coloration
But that significant, pull a ligament

While you're standin', your fist they will miss
And crumble and remain in the abyss
And now time for action, action is the verb
The I will say, scream, "What's the word?"

Now on, what's the word?
Alright, I'm bring in the aspect
Of my man
The aspect, come now

I'm a soldier, I'm a
I'm gonna chase up and run down Botha
Botha betta run him betta start
I mash up when he conquer

gun gonna fire, come fatter
Say it to the sky like a ball of
Jah come foot over [Incomprehensible]
Gun fire, I'm a soldier

Alright, time for the American aspect
my man Rob Swinga, come now

Yo, I why is it that in Africa
The people are the 2nd and 3rd class citizens?
I mean I thought was black
Isn't that what they told us in our own history in America?

I mean, yo it's something to think
gonna tell me I'm black and I'm from Africa
Yet still somebody's me
I have no right to say what on there

I I can't understand that at all!
That's something to make you
Stop and and say
"Hmm"