Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

The waits for no one
I've been 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 they
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 born
out, a young disciple
You had that gleam in eye
of the projects
From the day you born
disciple
Yeah, of the projects

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

They took Will, let me describe him, a one
I think that he was the 'God's Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them sounds too, he'd 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' stand it
him off the planet, left us in 9-2
With the philosophy of arms do, a true 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 born
Street's
Yeah, of the projects

Plug the mics up, I'm ready to rock,
of measuring pots of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
Captain Hook to these infants, it's my folks is still on the benches
by villains and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun buck by the
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it with embalming
Rhymin' to music all time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and Rakim do it

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

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, disciple of the