Luyện nghe bài hát Industrial Revolution

1]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique,

The bling-bling era was cute but about to be done
I leave you full of clips like the moon the sun
my metaphors are dirty like but harder to catch
like an escape tunnel in prison I from scratch
and now these parasites wanna percent of my
trying to control like an acid flashback
but here's a for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket like Malcolm X
but this a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you me
curse the heavens and when the sky electrocutes me
Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as good as as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
'cause you got in ya voice like star scream
and that's the primary reason that I hate faggots
I've been nice since niggas got killed over jackets
and Reebok Pumps didn't do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach the speaker
and counter revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and force feed his kids
ANR's try jerking me thinking call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket full of pox
your all getting shot, you fucking trecherous bitches

This is the business, and ya'll getting nothing for free
and if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your
you can it reparations or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial

2]
I want fifty three million dollars for my collar
like the Bush gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing grams nigga, to speak and behave
you wanna spend years as a government slave
two people in prison keep the government paid
stuck in a six by eight alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to to the masses
deep in the toast the truth, reach for the glasses
I burn an orphanage just to bring to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, columbian
intoxicated of the flow thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to blastin'
better off asking Ariel Sharon for compasion
your better off begging for twenty points for a
your better off battling under telephone cabels
chemically unstable, set to explode
foretold by the sea scrolls written in codes
so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you
if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
it just means a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in general and to the limit
without managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, the critics
and leave your fucking rotten for the roaches and crickets