Luyện nghe bài hát All The Critics In New York

Goddamn! New City!
and everything!

Back in the day, we to respect y'all, niggas
We used to be down with y'all,
All you have for the West Coast is criticism and
So I say to you and your
Y'all niggas will never get our respect

West nigga! Keepin' it real
it real

Is Brooklyn in the house? What about Queens in the
Manhattan in the house? Island in the house?
Is the Bronx in the house? Staten Island in the
The West is in the house sayin', "Why you talkin' loud?
you talkin' about?"

Fuck all the in the N.Y.C.
Who wants to rock the microphone me?
of who you are and who you be
My energy holds it like the NFC
I'm going thorough thorough borough
Wit my Raider jacket and my jerry
Gangstas rule the world on the nevertheless W/S
We got the bomb and you got the stress

You couldn't have said it no better,
With my automatic toy, I kill and
These ass critics from the N.Y.C.
they know that I'lI be from the ING?
My play for keeps deep crews
Pay dues by murder and twos
Rip riders and Damus
To gangsta, you never ever ran us
We bustin' clips like bananas, spottin' bandanas

It's just the hoodsta cap
Dusty ass New York critic
Dumpin' and the mothafuckin'
Led in their chest ain't
of them niggas ever have it up for the West
So now on and the gauge in my pants got me limping
Fuck while I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a East smashing tape recorders
This is 187 on a New reporter

New York, New
New York, New
New York, New
New York, New

Fuck all the in the N.Y.C.
to get a East hip-hop monopoly
But been writin' gangsta shit since '83
When y'all was still to use profanity
Now everybody wanna run and go and get
And blaim it on these Coast 7 figure niggas
Just we made it real, niggas got the deal
I blood ain't got the spill, I kill

It's like the battle of the sexes, you wanna us like bitches
Because we're platinum we flex this
With mic in hand, fans in the
We make a yan from California to Japan, bitch

Went overseas, D's how we done it
88's to 100's to let me know who run it
This West gangsta shit got it crackin' or we jackin'
Packin' ninas and sellin' out arenas,

You make me holla, throw up both my Dubs
And roll these up, I gotta beat 'em
When I see 'em 'em, cut off his scrotum
Leave 'em bleeding in particles, for them all articles
I'm mashin' and so get the casket
I bet you after this I get a hip hop classic
I'm you niggas from the scene
Kicking newstands pourin' gasoline on your magazines

To the West, my niggas, to the
To the West, my niggas, to the
To the West, my niggas, to the
We the best, my niggas, stress

Fuck all the in the N.Y.C.
And your articles tryin' to my LP
Fuck your backpacks and wack ass raps
Sayin' we ain't real we make snaps
Selling 6-4 a dab, what you lookin' at
your Brooklyn hat and your pen and pad
Nigga, I got a pocket full of green at the seams
Fuck your baggy jeans, fuck magazines

Hey, hey, hey, what's round Trey
It's still MT K on mines all mothafuckin' day
It'a trip, the flipped from when you niggas was bossing
Got to flossin', fell off and got the in the coffin
Who wanna regret with my set
I be a 24 year West side Connect Vet
You niggas better watch how you greet us when you us
We heaters and the only way you beat us is cheat us

Ay no, nigga, fuck that shit, I've got to it, kill it
a New York critic, he write about it
I it, did it plus I'm still with it putting it down
On all these DJ's fakin'
And faking once played my record on their radio station
No love for a New York or Disc Jock
Matter of fact, I'm all y'all for fuckin' up hip hop

Is in the house? What about Queens in the house?
Manhattan in the house? Long Island in the
Is the Bronx in the house? Staten in the house?

The Coast is in the house sayin'
"Why you loud?
you talkin' about?
Why you loud?"
What you about?

What you about?
Why you loud?

you talkin' about?
Why you loud?

What you talkin'
Why you loud?
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