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,
Look around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna fight with you
Shit comes faster than you think
Blood and white chalk makes pink, so what's that make
Become a creature of habitat, the cat
Won't see where it's at, or where goin'

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

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

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

They Will, let me describe him, a live one
I think he was the true 'God's Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them sounds too, he'd hear
Not to his likin', and say, "Son they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' stand 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 were
Starring out, a disciple
You had that in your eye
Disciple of the
From the day you born
Street's
Yeah, of the projects

Plug the up, I'm ready to rock, knockin
Reminiscing of 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 convention
1991, son, gold on the facial, gun buck by the naval
could blaze you, we laced it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and would do it

Seemed to us that we could 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, leathers, I need them, riskin' my freedom
in bubble coats, fuck a sermon from the neighborhood pope
He's sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting ones he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle Pelle's, young mark bellies
Babies in a cycle, future disciples

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