Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was born in the eighties, drove a Mercedes
Did a bid, home to some grown ass kid
Crack baby, to young thug, description might fit you,
around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol fight with you
Shit comes faster than you think
Blood and white makes pink, so what's that 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 through it from Ewings 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 niggaz from stacks
Feelin' trapped on the block with cracks
is vital for the survival of the street's disciple

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

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

took 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, hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with them hammers, niggaz couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
the philosophy of what arms do, a true street's disciple

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

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 my folks is still on the benches
Surrounded by and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold on the facial, gun buck by the naval
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' 'bout how and Rakim would do it

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

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