Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

stuck, slow as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a fast 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 ghetto
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz they can it
baggin' and toe-taggin'

They took Will, let me him, a live one
I think that he was the true 'God's Son', not Jesus, but
His ear was up on sounds 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
him off the planet, left us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what arms do, a true disciple

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

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

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

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