Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

the day you were born
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
That's compliments of a spliff in the night life
In my flight jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin'
After him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was once ghetto prophecy is now scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow from pretty crack addicts
Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz they can have it
Coke baggin' and

They 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, hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He never got to see my debut,
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what arms do, a true street's

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

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

Seemed impossible to us that we ever leave
From the block, 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, busting ones when he stroke
Pelle Pelle's, young stretch mark bellies
Babies born in a cycle, disciples

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