Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

Moonstruck stuck, as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a spliff in the night life
In my flight jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin'
After watchin' him cut up Ruddock
In the gutter, which was ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz they can it
baggin' and toe-taggin'

They Will, let me describe him, a live 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 frontin' couldn't it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the philosophy of arms do, a true street's disciple

From the day you born
out, a young disciple
You had that in your 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 of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
Captain Hook to these infants, it's like my is still on the benches
Surrounded by and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun by the naval
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it embalming fluid
Rhymin' to all this time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and Rakim do it

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

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, disciple of the