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 down with y'all,
All you have for the Coast is criticism and disrespect
So I say to you and your
Y'all niggas will get our respect again

Side nigga! Keepin' it real
Keepin' it

Is Brooklyn in the house? What 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' loud?
What you 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 thorough thorough your borough
Wit my Raider and my jerry curl
Gangstas rule the world on the west W/S
We got the bomb and you got the stress

You couldn't have it no better, homeboy
my automatic toy, I kill and destroy
These bust ass critics the N.Y.C.
Don't they know that I'lI be the ING?
My peeps for keeps deep crews
Pay dues by ones and twos
Rip riders and choose
To stay gangsta, you ever ran us
We bustin' clips like bananas, spottin' colored

just the hoodsta cap peela
Dusty ass New critic killa
Dumpin' and pumpin' the
Led in their chest ain't
None of them niggas have it up for the West
So now it's on and the gauge in my pants got me
Fuck while I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a Bell smashing tape recorders
This is 187 on a New reporter

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

all the critics in the N.Y.C.
Tryin' to get a hip-hop monopoly
But I've been writin' gangsta since '83
When y'all was still to use profanity
Now wanna run and go and get triggers
And it on these West Coast 7 figure niggas
because 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 treat us like bitches
Because platinum when we flex this
With mic in hand, in the stands
We make a yan from California to Japan, bitch

Went overseas, seen D's how we it
88's to 100's to let me who really run it
This West Coast gangsta shit got it crackin' or we
Packin' ninas and out arenas, niggas

You me wanta holla, throw up both my Dubs
And roll niggas up, I gotta beat 'em
When I see 'em T-roll 'em, cut off his
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 fuckin' hip hop
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

all the critics in the N.Y.C.
And your articles to rate my LP
Fuck your and your wack ass raps
Sayin' we real because we make snaps
Selling 6-4 with a dab, what you at
your Brooklyn hat and your pen and pad
Nigga, I got a pocket full of green bustin' at the
your baggy jeans, fuck your magazines

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

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

Is Brooklyn in the house? What Queens in the house?
in the house? Long Island in the house?
Is the in the house? Staten Island in the house?

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

What you about?
Why you loud?

you talkin' about?
Why you loud?

you talkin' about?
Why you talkin'
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