Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

The hood for no one
I've been through it from to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to cases, to fly vacations
From wanting it all, to being the object of admiration
Imagination is what lack
It stops from gettin' stacks
Feelin' trapped on the block loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the survival of the disciple

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

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

They Will, let me describe him, a live one
I think that he was the true 'God's Son', not Jesus, but
His ear was up on them sounds too, he'd hear
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He got to see my debut, wild-mannered
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 were
out, a young disciple
You had that in your eye
of the projects
From the day you were
Street's
Yeah, of the projects

Plug the mics up, I'm to rock, knockin
of measuring pots of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
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 buck by the
Disciple blaze you, we laced it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all 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 shovel me, son, in this cell again, fuck these
Devil policemen, plush leathers, I them, riskin' my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, fuck a from the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting when he stroke
Pelle Pelle's, young stretch mark bellies
Babies born in a cycle, future

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