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 young thug, description fit you,
Look it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol fight with you
Shit comes around than you think
Blood and white makes pink, so what's that make you?
a creature of habitat, the average cat
Won't see where it's at, or it's goin'

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

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

Moonstruck stuck, slow as in my actions
That's of a fast spliff in the night life
In my jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin' Tyson
After him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was once ghetto is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, some lil' niggaz they can have it
baggin' 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 sounds too, he'd somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what arms do, a street's disciple

From the day you were
Starring out, a disciple
You had that gleam in eye
Disciple of the
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 to these infants, it's like my folks is still on the benches
by villains and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun buck by the
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and Rakim do it

Seemed impossible to us that we ever leave
the block, where 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, my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, a sermon from the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting ones he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle Pelle's, stretch mark bellies
Babies 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 born
Disciple
Yeah, disciple of the