Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

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

They took Will, let me describe him, a one
I think that he was the true Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them sounds too, hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't it
him off the planet, left us in 9-2
With the of what arms do, a true street's disciple

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

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

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

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