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 and disrespect
So I say to you and your
Y'all niggas will never get our again

West Side nigga! it real
it real

Is Brooklyn in the house? about 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 sayin', "Why you talkin'
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 thorough thorough your borough
Wit my Raider jacket and my curl
Gangstas rule the on the west nevertheless W/S
We got the bomb and you got the stress

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

It's just the hoodsta cap
Dusty ass New York killa
Dumpin' and the mothafuckin'
Led in their chest 'cause
of them niggas ever have it up for the West
So now it's on and the in my pants got me limping
Fuck unity I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a East smashing tape recorders
is 187 on a New York reporter

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

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

like the battle of the sexes, you wanna treat us like bitches
Because we're platinum when we this
mic in hand, fans in the stands
We make a mill yan California to Japan, bitch

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

You make me wanta holla, throw up both my
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 and blastin' so get the casket
I bet you this I get a fuckin' hip hop classic
I'm you niggas from the scene
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

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

Hey, hey, hey, happenin' round Trey
It's still MT K on mines all mothafuckin' day
It'a trip, the script flipped when you niggas was bossing
Got to flossin', off and got the nail 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 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 York critic, he write it
I live it, did it I'm still with it putting it down
On all DJ's 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 about Queens in the
in the house? Long Island in the house?
Is the Bronx in the house? Staten Island in the

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

you talkin' about?
Why you talkin'

you talkin' about?
Why you talkin'

What you talkin'
Why you loud?
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