Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was in the eighties, pops drove 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 faster than you think
Blood and white chalk makes pink, so what's make you?
Become a creature of habitat, the cat
see where it's at, or where it's goin'

The waits 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 of your admiration
Imagination is they lack
It stops niggaz gettin' stacks
trapped on the block with loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the survival of the street's

From the day you born
Starring out, a young
You had gleam in your eye
Disciple of the
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, adrenaline heightened, mimickin'
After him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, jobs from pretty crack addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, some lil' niggaz they can have it
Coke and toe-taggin'

They took Will, let me him, a live one
I think 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 they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the of what arms do, a true street's disciple

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

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

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

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