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

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

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

One for the
Two for pussy and foreign
Three for niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods the prognosis, is it real, or showbiz?
My window faces shootouts, drug
amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin', stitches or fat shoelaces
are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
And down po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen the paper then my brain's blank
I see streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank
Pumpin' for somethin', some up-rise, plus some
Judges hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for direct
My prevails from a hangin' cross with nails
I the frail, with lyrics that's real
to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
I prophecies through a mic and say peace.
I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's made bell rings, black
Some scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs still
talkin' to snakes cause 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 down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

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