Luyện nghe bài hát All The Critics In New York

Goddamn! New City!
and everything!

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

Side nigga! Keepin' it real
Keepin' it

Is in the house? What about Queens in the house?
Manhattan in the Long Island in the house?
Is the in the house? Staten 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 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 jacket and my jerry curl
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,
my automatic toy, I kill and destroy
These bust ass critics the N.Y.C.
Don't they know that I'lI be from the
My peeps play for keeps crews
Pay by murder ones and twos
Rip riders and Damus
To stay gangsta, you never ran us
We clips like bananas, spottin' colored bandanas

It's just the cap peela
ass New York critic killa
Dumpin' and the mothafuckin'
Led in their chest ain't
None of niggas ever have it up for the West
So now on and the gauge in my pants got me limping
Fuck unity I'm coast tripping
as a Bell 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.
Tryin' to get a hip-hop monopoly
But I've been writin' shit since '83
y'all was still scared to use profanity
Now wanna run and go and get triggers
And blaim it on these West Coast 7 niggas
because 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 wanna us like bitches
Because we're platinum when we flex
mic in hand, fans in the stands
We make a mill yan from 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 wanta holla, throw up both my
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 bias all
I'm mashin' and so get the casket
I bet you this I get a fuckin' hip hop classic
I'm bannin' you 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, stress

Fuck all the in the N.Y.C.
And your articles to rate my LP
Fuck your backpacks and wack ass raps
we ain't real 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 full of green at the seams
Fuck baggy jeans, fuck your magazines

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

Ay no, nigga, fuck shit, I've got to kill it, kill it
Fuck a New York critic, he write it
I live it, did it plus I'm still it putting it down
On all DJ's hatin' fakin'
And never once played my record on their radio station
No love for a New York critic or Disc
Matter of fact, I'm all y'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 Coast is in the house sayin'
"Why you talkin'
What you talkin'
Why you loud?"
you talkin' about?

What you talkin'
Why you talkin'

What you talkin'
Why you talkin'

What you about?
Why you talkin'
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