Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was born in the eighties, pops a Mercedes
Did a bid, comin' to some grown ass kid
Crack baby, turn to young thug, description fit you,
Look around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol fight you
Shit comes around faster you think
Blood and white chalk makes pink, so what's make you?
a creature of habitat, the average cat
Won't see where it's at, or where it's

The hood for no one
I've been through it Ewings to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to cases, to fly vacations
From wanting it all, to being the object of your
Imagination is they lack
It stops from gettin' stacks
Feelin' trapped on the block with loose
Wisdom is for the survival of the street's disciple

From the day you were
Starring out, a young
You had gleam in your eye
of the projects
From the day you were
Street's
Yeah, of the projects

stuck, slow as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a fast in the night life
In my flight jacket, heightened, mimickin' Tyson
After watchin' him cut up Ruddock
In the gutter, was once ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty crack
Older wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz they can have it
baggin' and toe-taggin'

They took Will, let me him, a live one
I that he was the true 'God's Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them too, he'd hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He got to see my debut, wild-mannered
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the of what arms do, a true street's disciple

the day you were born
Starring out, a young
You had that gleam in eye
of the projects
From the day you born
Disciple
Yeah, of the projects

Plug the mics up, I'm to rock, knockin
Reminiscing of pots of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
Captain Hook to these infants, it's like my folks is on the benches
Surrounded by villains and henchmen, was a convention
1991, son, fronts on the facial, gun buck by the naval
Disciple blaze you, we laced it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' how Kane and Rakim would do it

Seemed impossible to us that we could ever
From the block, where the was forever freezin'
Hell, if I ever let them shovel me, son, in this again, fuck these
Devil policemen, plush leathers, I need them, riskin' my
Burners in bubble coats, fuck a sermon from the neighborhood
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting ones when he
Pelle Pelle's, young stretch mark bellies
Babies born in a cycle, future

the day you were born
Starring out, a young
You had gleam in your eye
of the projects
From the day you were
Disciple
Yeah, disciple of the