Luyện nghe bài hát Memory Lane

I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly and prisoners
Henessey and old school niggas, then I be dissin' a
Unofficial that smoke thai
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a coke cutie pie
survivor, fuck who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a difference Energizer
Sentence begins indented, with
My infinite, money wise or physiology
Poetry, a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient hip-hop, straight off the block
I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep
lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did or white lines
The hype vice, murderous night times, and fights invite crimes
Chill on the with Cognac gold strap
With my that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the beast in the Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For niggaz no sheisty vice to just ya
Start off the dice-rollin' mats for to Ceelo
With side bets, I roll a deuce, nothin' (Peace God!)
God, now the shit is explained
I'm takin' niggas on a trip straight through memory
It's like that y'all, it's like y'all

"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me take a trip memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me a trip down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

"Now let me take a trip memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

One for the
Two for pussy and cars
for Alize niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real, or
My faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the
Here's my basis, my embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin', stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
And back down po-po when I'm so
My pen taps the paper then my brain's
I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the rank
Pumpin' for somethin', some up-rise, plus some
hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect from a hangin' cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, on beats
I decipher through a mic and say peace.
I hung around the older crews while they sling to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's made bell rings, black
Some scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
Fuck 'rap is real', watch the stand still
Never talkin' to snakes cause the words of man
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my
I pour my brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me a trip down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a down memory lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"
"Now let me take a trip down lane"
"Comin' Queensbridge"

The most dangerous MC is, me won, and you know where me from