Luyện nghe bài hát Memory Lane

I rap for listeners, heads, fly ladies and prisoners
Henessey holders and old school niggas, then I be a
Unofficial that smoke woolie
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a coke head pie
Jungle survivor, fuck the liver
My man put the in my back, a difference from Energizer
begins indented, with formality
My duration's infinite, money or physiology
Poetry, that's a of me, retardedly bop
I the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block
I reminisce on jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood lesson make me see him in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in life, did times or white lines
The hype vice, murderous night times, and fights invite crimes
Chill on the block with Cognac strap
With my that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For niggaz no sheisty vice to snipe ya
Start off the mats for craps to Ceelo
With bets, I roll a deuce, nothin' below (Peace God!)
God, now the shit is explained
I'm takin' on a trip straight through memory lane
It's like that y'all, it's like y'all

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

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

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

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

One for the
Two for pussy and foreign
for Alize niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods the prognosis, is it real, or showbiz?
My faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many
telephone blowin', black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let
And back down po-po I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same
Pumpin' for somethin', some up-rise, some fail
Judges hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on
I decipher prophecies a mic and say peace.
I hung around the older crews while sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name bell rings, black
Some fiends scream, 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 cause the words of man kill
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my
I my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

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

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