Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was born in the eighties, pops drove a
Did a bid, comin' home to some ass kid
baby, turn to young thug, description might fit you,
Look around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol with you
Shit comes around faster than you
and white chalk makes pink, so what's that make you?
Become a creature of habitat, the cat
see where it's at, or where it's goin'

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

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

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

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

From the day you were
out, a young disciple
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 Hook to these infants, it's like my is still on the benches
Surrounded by villains and henchmen, was a killer
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun by the naval
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it with fluid
Rhymin' to all this time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and would do it

Seemed impossible to us that we could leave
From the block, where the 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
in bubble coats, fuck a sermon from the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, busting ones when he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle Pelle's, young mark bellies
Babies in a cycle, future disciples

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