Luyện nghe bài hát Parole

[Intro: Immortal (parole officer)]
(980505A) nigga what
(You parole) What?
(Pack your stuff) The
(And get the out of here) A-haha
Aiyyo man, about motherfuckin time man
Aiyyo G, G son, I got my papers man
I'm out motherfucker!

Technique]
Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm never going back
Never selling heroin, never selling again
Don't work for the government packagin
Don't fire indiscriminate, with the mac
My people are stuck behind glass like a
pretend to give a fuck, just like the Vatican
Second chance, faith based, two-faced
Every we come back, they... [record rewinds]
I'm out of jail, and I'm never back again
Never selling heroin, never crack again
I'm out of jail, and I'm never back again
I'm out of, I'm out of (I'm out motherfucker!)

Yeah, I'm out of jail, and I'm going back again
Never selling heroin, never crack again
Don't work for the coke packagin
Don't indiscriminate, with the mac again
My people are stuck behind like a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck, just the Vatican
Second chance, faith based, two-faced
Every time we come back, they keep on in
Prison labor, sweatshop comparisons
'til we the whole fuckin garrison
Yeah, poverty, makes people do, reckless
But corporations do worse to protect bling
are more, overcrowded than the rap game
They say you more likely to go to jail with a black
Freakonomics I speak through ebonics
and fuck Phonics, niggaz is (Hooked On) chronic
But if you on stage with the DEA, as hype man
get yourself locked up, and blame the white man
We transformed gangs and enterprises
Usin O.G.'s as
Before they, send us to war, after divide us
But I won't let 'em use us like Teddy Rough Riders
My movement's a jujitsu kata
I graduated outta prison, so my alma mater nigga

Immortal Technique (woman)]
(Hello?) yeah, what's up yo?
(Hey, how you doin?) Yo, you what?
I just got my (you're fuckin lying!)
Yo I'm home to you, I'll see you in like a day and a half
([screams] Oh my God, I'm so happy! Are you serious?)
([screams] I'm so happy! Are you serious?)
Yeah, I'm dead serious baby, I'm comin (oh my God!)
Put the little blue thing on for me,
(You got baby, yeah!)

Technique]
I'm on parole, and never be alone again
Fuck this baby, I'm comin home again
Shorty wrapped around me so I'll, be cold again
Never have to knock a out, for the phone again
ain't the place that you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with nasty food in your
Middle passage, bottom of the ship, how pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake shit, sweeter than
Jailhouse snitches without corroborating
Niggaz niggaz out for true to be, Benjamins
But now I'm free, hit the block, Entenmann's
Benihana in and out, flow to eat to in
Newspaper pencillin, tryin to pay the rent
Ex-con job interview, nobody
Feelin violent the frustation I got pent up in
But not tryin to go to the place, I was sent up in
Turn my own life around, fuck the
to hip-hop like "Where the fuck the talent went?"
How the did you replace, lyrics with your swaggerin?
fix that, rhymin on with the mag-a-num
I roll up in a caravan, full of Africans
My squad got, more soldier than the Saracens
Cause watch (watch!) when the terrorists attack again
reaction's gonna be draft 'em and send us back again

I'm on parole, and never be alone again
this place baby, I'm comin home again
Shorty wrapped me so I'll, never be cold again
Never have to knock a out, for the phone again
Prison ain't the that you find your rite of passage in
It's slavery, with nasty food in your
passage, bottom of the ship, how they pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake shit, sweeter than
I'm on