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

West nigga! Keepin' it real
it real

Is Brooklyn in the house? What about in the house?
Manhattan in the house? Long in the house?
Is the Bronx in the house? Island in the house?
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 after me?
of who you are and who you be
My energy holds it like the NFC
I'm going thorough your borough
Wit my Raider jacket and my jerry
Gangstas rule the world on the west W/S
We got the bomb and you niggas got the

You have said it no better, homeboy
With my toy, I kill and destroy
These ass critics from the N.Y.C.
they know that I'lI be from the ING?
My peeps play for keeps crews
Pay dues by murder and twos
Rip and Damus choose
To stay gangsta, you ever ran us
We bustin' clips like bananas, colored bandanas

It's the hoodsta cap peela
Dusty ass New York critic
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 gauge in my pants got me
unity while I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a Bell East smashing recorders
This is 187 on a New York

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' shit since '83
When was still scared to use profanity
Now wanna run and go and get triggers
And blaim it on these West Coast 7 figure
Just we made it real, niggas got the deal
I hope ain't got the spill, I kill

It's like the battle of the sexes, you treat us like bitches
Because we're when 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
to 100's to let me know who really run it
This West Coast gangsta got it crackin' or we jackin'
Packin' ninas and sellin' out arenas,

You make me wanta holla, up both my Dubs
And roll these niggas up, I beat 'em
I see 'em T-roll '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 I get a fuckin' hip hop classic
I'm bannin' you niggas from the
Kicking over newstands 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, don't

Fuck all the in the N.Y.C.
And your tryin' to rate 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
your Brooklyn hat and your pen and pad
Nigga, I got a pocket of green bustin' at the seams
your baggy jeans, fuck your magazines

Hey, hey, hey, happenin' round Trey
It's still MT K on mines all mothafuckin' day
It'a trip, the script flipped from you niggas was bossing
Got to flossin', off and got the nail in the coffin
Who wanna fuckin' with my set
I be a 24 year street side Connect Vet
You niggas better watch how you greet us 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 York critic, he write it
I live it, did it I'm still with it putting it down
On all these DJ's hatin'
And never once played my record on their radio station
No love for a New York critic or Jock
Matter of fact, I'm blaming all y'all for up hip hop

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

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

What you about?
Why you loud?

What you talkin'
Why you talkin'

you talkin' about?
Why you loud?
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