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

I rap for listeners, heads, fly ladies and prisoners
holders and old school niggas, then I be dissin' a
Unofficial that smoke thai
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a coke head pie
survivor, fuck who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a difference from
Sentence indented, with formality
My duration's infinite, money or physiology
Poetry, that's a part of me, bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, off the block
I reminisce on jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood lesson me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did or white lines
The hype vice, murderous night times, and fights invite crimes
Chill on the block with Cognac gold
With my that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the beast in the Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For niggaz no sheisty vice to 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 straight through memory lane
It's like that y'all, like that y'all

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

One for the
Two for pussy and foreign
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, the drama, for real
A is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my embraces, many faces
telephone blowin', black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
And back po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper my brain's blank
I see streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank
for somethin', some up-rise, plus some fail
Judges hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for sales
My intellect prevails from a cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, on beats
I decipher prophecies a mic and say peace.
I around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
They of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black
fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
Uptown was Alpo, son, he was kingpin, yo
Fuck 'rap is real', the herbs stand still
Never talkin' to snakes the words of man kill
True in the game, as as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my 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