Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

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

They Will, let me describe 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 got to see my debut, wild-mannered
But wild with hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
the philosophy of what arms do, a true street's disciple

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

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

Seemed impossible to us that we ever leave
From the block, where the world was forever
Hell, if I let them shovel me, son, in this cell again, fuck these
Devil policemen, plush leathers, I them, riskin' my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, fuck a sermon from the pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting when he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle Pelle's, young mark bellies
Babies born in a cycle, future

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