Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

The waits for no one
been through it from Ewings to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to cases, to fly vacations
From it all, to being the object of your admiration
Imagination is what lack
It stops niggaz from gettin'
Feelin' trapped on the block with loose
is vital for the survival of the street's disciple

From the day you born
Starring out, a disciple
You had that 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 spliff in the night life
In my jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin' Tyson
watchin' him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was once ghetto prophecy is now scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from crack addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz they can it
Coke and toe-taggin'

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

Plug the mics up, I'm ready to rock,
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 convention
1991, son, gold 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 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 again, fuck these
Devil policemen, leathers, I need them, riskin' my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, fuck a sermon the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting when he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle's, young stretch mark bellies
Babies in a cycle, future disciples

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