Luyện nghe bài hát What's The Word

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

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

Like guns will be present while I keep the people
Not too much, Africa isn't free yet
I spoke to the kids Brooklyn to T-Neck
New Jersey, and they heard me while I the

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

I know he has in a full swing, yeah
This year Thatcher, we're gonna catch her
a klutz, her husband is a drunk putz
He acts absurd, now the word?

Okay okay, on
Okay okay, on

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

If he's the President, out my Ray-Gun

Listen, and sisters
time for everyone to go fishin'
For your history, a book and read
Between the lines, don't your mind

Sometimes I don't know how to it understood
That a lot of black have been tampered by Hollywood
So it's important, take the name and and step
Research it yourself, 'cause you owe a debt

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

Be a bookworm, not a bookend, men
you have died so you can taste freedom
If we can't beat 'em delete 'em, so now
What's the

Okay okay, on
okay, come on

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

Okay okay, on
okay, come on
Okay okay, on
If the President, pullin' out my Ray-Gun

Throughout history, no might has ever crushed
The invincible of a nation
And yes, we are a nation, a different
But that isn't significant, pull a

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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