Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

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

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

stuck, slow as molasses in my actions
That's compliments of a fast spliff in the night
In my flight jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin'
After watchin' him cut up Ruddock
In the gutter, was once ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty addicts
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' niggaz can have it
Coke baggin' and

They Will, let me describe him, a live one
I think he was the true 'God's Son', not Jesus, but fearless
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 wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' stand it
Took him off the planet, us in 9-2
With the philosophy of what do, a true street's disciple

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

Plug the up, I'm ready to rock, knockin
of measuring pots 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 blaze you, we it with embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all this
Fightin' how Kane and Rakim would do it

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

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