Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

You was born in the eighties, pops a Mercedes
Did a bid, comin' home to some ass kid
Crack baby, turn to young thug, might fit you,
Look around it might hit you, no joke, I wanna fight with you
comes around faster than you think
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 hood for no one
I've been through it Ewings to Buicks, to body viewings
Car to court cases, to fly vacations
From wanting it all, to being the of your admiration
Imagination is what they
It stops from gettin' stacks
Feelin' on the block with loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the of the street's disciple

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

Moonstruck stuck, slow as in my actions
That's compliments of a fast in the night life
In my jacket, adrenaline heightened, mimickin' Tyson
After him cut up Razor Ruddock
In the gutter, which was ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Lookin' back at it, blow jobs from pretty crack
Older Gods wantin' no static, told some lil' they can have it
Coke and toe-taggin'

They 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 sounds too, hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' 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 street's disciple

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

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

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

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