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, turn to young thug, description fit you,
Look it might hit you, no joke, I wanna pistol fight with you
Shit comes faster than you think
Blood and white chalk makes pink, so what's that you?
Become a of habitat, the average cat
see where it's at, or where it's goin'

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

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

Moonstruck stuck, as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a spliff in the night life
In my flight jacket, heightened, mimickin' Tyson
watchin' him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was once ghetto prophecy is now ghetto
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs pretty crack addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told lil' niggaz they can have 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, he'd hear
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He never got to see my debut,
But with them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't stand it
him off the planet, left us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what arms do, a true disciple

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

the mics up, I'm ready to rock, knockin
Reminiscing of pots of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
Captain Hook to infants, it's like my folks is still on the benches
Surrounded by and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun buck by the
Disciple could you, we laced it with embalming fluid
to music all this time
Fightin' how Kane 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
policemen, plush leathers, I need them, riskin' my freedom
Burners in bubble coats, fuck a sermon from the pope
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

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