Luyện nghe bài hát Memory Lane

I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and
Henessey holders and old niggas, then I be dissin' a
Unofficial smoke woolie thai
I dropped out of High, gassed up by a coke head cutie pie
survivor, fuck who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a difference Energizer
Sentence begins indented, formality
My duration's infinite, money or physiology
Poetry, that's a of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, off the block
I on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood make me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or lines
The hype vice, murderous night times, and knife fights invite
Chill on the block with Cognac gold
With my that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For niggaz no sheisty vice to just ya
off the dice-rollin' mats for craps to Ceelo
With side bets, I a deuce, nothin' below (Peace God!)
Peace God, now the shit is
I'm takin' niggas on a trip straight through memory
It's like that y'all, it's like that

"Now let me take a trip memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me a trip down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

One for the
Two for pussy and cars
Three for Alize niggas deceased or behind
I rap Gods check the prognosis, is it real, or showbiz?
My window shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for
A nickel-plate is my fate, my is the ganja
my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin', black stitches or fat
are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
And down po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper then my brain's
I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same
Pumpin' for somethin', some up-rise, plus fail
hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, on beats
I decipher prophecies a mic and say peace.
I hung around the older while they sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings,
Some fiends scream, about Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand
Never talkin' to snakes cause the of man kill
True in the game, as as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on lane

"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me a trip down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

The most MC is, me number won, and you know where me from