Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

stuck, slow as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a 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 prophecy is now scripture
Lookin' at it, blow jobs from pretty crack addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz can have it
Coke baggin' and

They took Will, let me 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 they you"
He got to see my debut, wild-mannered
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 disciple

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

Plug the mics up, I'm ready to rock,
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 fronts on the facial, gun by the naval
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it with embalming
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' how Kane and Rakim would do it

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

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