Luyện nghe bài hát All The Critics In New York

Goddamn! New City!
and everything!

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

Side nigga! Keepin' it real
Keepin' it

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

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

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

It's just the cap peela
Dusty ass New critic killa
and pumpin' the mothafuckin'
Led in their chest ain't
None of niggas ever have it up for the West
So now it's on and the in my pants got me limping
unity while I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a Bell East smashing 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 I've been writin' gangsta since '83
When was still scared to use profanity
Now everybody run and go and get triggers
And blaim it on these West 7 figure niggas
Just because we it real, niggas got the deal
I hope blood got the spill, I kill

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

Went overseas, seen D's how we it
88's to to let me know who really run it
West Coast gangsta shit got it crackin' or we jackin'
Packin' and sellin' out arenas, niggas

You make me wanta holla, up both my Dubs
And roll niggas up, I gotta beat 'em
I see 'em T-roll 'em, cut off his scrotum
Leave 'em bleeding in particles, for bias all articles
I'm and blastin' so get the casket
I bet you after this I get a hip hop classic
I'm bannin' you niggas from the
Kicking over newstands pourin' gasoline on 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, don't

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

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

Ay no, nigga, fuck that shit, I've got to kill it, it
Fuck a New critic, he write about it
I live it, did it plus I'm still with it it down
On all DJ's hatin' fakin'
And never once played my record on their radio station
No love for a New York or Disc Jock
Matter of fact, I'm blaming all for fuckin' up hip hop

Is Brooklyn in the What about Queens in the house?
in the house? Long Island in the house?
Is the Bronx in the house? Island in the house?

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

What you about?
Why you loud?

What you talkin'
Why you loud?

What you talkin'
Why you loud?
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