Luyện nghe bài hát Disciple

Two-thousand-four,
L, whattup?
prophesy, baby

Disciple,
(What?)

(Streets)

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(Street)

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(Streets)

(Let's go)

Word to mama, any of rhymers
Could bring any drama, anytime the mine
Nas is love undyin', money's my bitch
In thugz mansion, dancin' around the fly shit

Pharaoh garment's Prada, Egyptian back-riders
Pyramid architects, Perignon
Money, jewelry me to come get me
Hit me but miss me, you history

Lead around like a Frisbee
Italian from Sicily kiss me
This ain't 50, this Jigga
ain't Diddy, this ain't Pretty

Pain, power, pussy and
Lyrically no one hold near me, hear me
Kids cheer me like The of Monte Cristo
Steady poundin' soundin' like G without the though

My big bro me plain and simple, "Nas, do not look back"
where you took rap, no book bags and trucker hats
Just army jacks and diamonds flashin'
What the fuck is that

Disciple,
(Streets)

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(Esco)

Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and
Phillip, Simon and Judas, I'm of music
beats is the main thing minus the traitor
And I'm not a dictator, I'm the righteous you haters

Inside the life of the greatest, take you through somethin' real
Get a smack in your face 'cause I up, trauma-tize, llama
Bust shells, yet tryna prevent violence
If I present somebody dyin', don't even worry 'bout it

Then warm for the cemetery climate
I speak I need cemetery silence
Terror see me, Gold Hummers,
Man who stole the

Hand straight gleamin', if I don't you toe-tag you
Drag you through the
Fo-fo Maggie body parts in my man's car
Then party hard in

While rigor mortis'll grab ya, him
I'm pass that on, where the mask at?
Too many love songs all the gone
What happened? Where's the

battlin' non-rappers, carryin' on backwards
Laughin' sayin' Nas thinks he's Farrakhan, preachin'
Hell yeah, awareness is my word to the 'Braveheart'
Written on my chest, the realest, here it is

Disciple,
(Streets)

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(Esco)