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 young thug, description fit you,
Look it might 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 where it's at, or where 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 wanting it all, to being the of your admiration
Imagination is they lack
It stops niggaz gettin' stacks
trapped on the block with loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the of the street's disciple

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

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

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 them too, he'd hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He got to see my debut, wild-mannered
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't it
him off the planet, left us in 9-2
With the philosophy of arms do, a true street's disciple

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

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

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

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