Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was in the eighties, pops drove 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 make you?
Become a creature of habitat, the cat
Won't see where at, or where it's goin'

The waits for no one
I've been it from Ewings to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to court cases, to fly
From wanting it all, to being the object of your
is what they lack
It stops niggaz gettin' stacks
Feelin' trapped on the with loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the of the 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 born
Street's
Yeah, of the projects

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

They took Will, let me describe him, a one
I think that he was the '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 them hammers, niggaz couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what arms do, a true disciple

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

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

Seemed impossible to us that we ever 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, my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, a sermon from the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting ones when he
Pelle Pelle's, young stretch mark bellies
Babies born in a cycle, future

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