Luyện nghe bài hát Streets Disciple

Yeah, yeah,

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

The waits for no one
I've been it from Ewings to Buicks, to body viewings
Car chases to cases, to fly vacations
From wanting it all, to the object of your admiration
is what they lack
It niggaz from gettin' stacks
Feelin' trapped on the block loose cracks
Wisdom is vital for the survival of the disciple

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

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

They took Will, let me describe him, a one
I think that he was the 'God's Son', not Jesus, but fearless
His ear was up on them too, he'd hear somethin'
Not to his likin', and say, "Son bitin' you"
He got to see my debut, wild-mannered
But wild with them hammers, niggaz frontin' couldn't 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
Disciple of the
From the day you born
Disciple
Yeah, of the projects

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 and henchmen, was a killer convention
1991, son, gold fronts on the facial, gun by the naval
Disciple could blaze you, we laced it embalming fluid
Rhymin' to music all time
Fightin' 'bout how Kane and Rakim do it

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

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