Luyện nghe bài hát The Prediction

[Rich
happenin brothers 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 of sunlight, got my battle boots tight
Now that the government's gone, can't tell left from your right
We the laughin while the New World's collapsin
Mother Earth's ribs in, armored carways I'm blastin
As the Earth now womb swells
The birth of Black Magic, savin my people of habit
You can't if you ain't never had it
Spiritually crafted blackness and hair-twisted ghetto embargo
comb-fistin I predict Goddesses you runnin after witches
I my fourteen stitches
all my baby girl wishes
I predict all the oceans dry
Not one baby will cry as you attempt to grow broccoli from the desert
We take our pregnant bodies, drink from underground rivers
your face between our legs
While recreating humanity, we will yem and yaw
Search for our fertility, ban all and yellow pills
Ban all pink and yellow
I predict killing fields of ghetto anti-Hatch
Hate groups will be
Childbirth outlawed
Always will be numbered and barred
All paper money is
Though few can interpret our scrolls
sky has holes
We know the is old
Nastradamus tell us how the gets told