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
baby, turn to young thug, description might fit you,
Look around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol with you
Shit comes around faster than you
Blood and white chalk makes pink, so what's make you?
a creature of habitat, the average cat
Won't see where at, or where it's goin'

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

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

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

They took Will, let me 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 they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the of what arms do, a true street's disciple

From the day you were
Starring out, a disciple
You had that gleam in 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 pots of Pyrex, cook in the
Captain Hook to these infants, it's like my folks is on the benches
Surrounded by and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold on the facial, gun buck by the naval
Disciple blaze you, we laced it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' how Kane and Rakim would do it

Seemed to us that we could ever leave
From the block, where the world was freezin'
Hell, if I let them shovel me, son, in this cell again, fuck these
Devil policemen, plush leathers, I need them, my freedom
Burners in coats, fuck a sermon from the neighborhood pope
sexing ho's, old fart, he's busting ones when he stroke
Multi-colored 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, disciple of the