Luyện nghe bài hát Memory Lane (sittin' In Da Park)

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

x4]
"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

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

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

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