Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

The waits for no one
I've been through it from to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to court cases, to fly
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, slow as in my actions
compliments of a fast spliff in the night life
In my flight jacket, adrenaline heightened, Tyson
After watchin' him cut up Ruddock
In the gutter, which was once ghetto prophecy is now scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty addicts
Gods wantin' no static, told some 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 Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them too, he'd hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son they you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with hammers, niggaz frontin' 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
out, a young disciple
You had gleam in your eye
Disciple of the
From the day you born
Disciple
Yeah, disciple of the

Plug the mics up, I'm to rock, knockin
Reminiscing of measuring of Pyrex, cook in the kitchen
Captain Hook to these infants, it's like my folks is still on the
Surrounded by villains and henchmen, was a killer
1991, son, gold on the facial, gun buck by the naval
Disciple could you, we laced it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to all this time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and would do it

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

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