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 used to be down with y'all,
All you have for the West Coast is criticism and
So I say to you and city
niggas will never get our respect again

West nigga! Keepin' it real
Keepin' it

Is Brooklyn in the house? What Queens in the house?
Manhattan in the Long Island in the house?
Is the Bronx in the 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 wants to rock the after me?
of who you are and who you be
My energy holds it down the NFC
I'm going thorough your borough
Wit my Raider jacket and my curl
Gangstas rule the world on the nevertheless W/S
We got the and you niggas got the stress

You have said it no better, homeboy
With my automatic toy, I kill and
bust ass critics from the N.Y.C.
Don't they that I'lI be from the ING?
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, spottin' colored

It's just the hoodsta cap
ass New York critic killa
Dumpin' and pumpin' the
Led in chest 'cause ain't
None of niggas ever have it up for the West
So now on and the gauge in my pants got me limping
unity while I'm coast tripping
Sagging as a Bell 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 monopoly
But been writin' gangsta shit since '83
When y'all was scared to use profanity
Now everybody run and go and get triggers
And blaim it on these Coast 7 figure niggas
because we made it real, niggas got the deal
I hope ain't got the spill, I kill

It's like the of the sexes, you wanna treat us like bitches
Because we're when we flex this
With mic in hand, fans in the
We a mill yan from California 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 Coast shit got it crackin' or we jackin'
Packin' and sellin' out arenas, niggas

You make me wanta holla, throw up both my
And roll these niggas up, I gotta 'em
I see 'em T-roll 'em, cut off his scrotum
Leave 'em bleeding in particles, for bias 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 pourin' gasoline on your

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 your articles tryin' to my LP
Fuck your backpacks and your ass raps
Sayin' we ain't real because we snaps
6-4 with a dab, what you lookin' at
With your Brooklyn hat and pen and pad
Nigga, I got a pocket full of green bustin' at the
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 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 side Vet
You niggas better watch how you greet us you meet us
We heaters and the only 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 about it
I live it, did it plus I'm still with it putting it
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
of fact, I'm blaming all y'all for fuckin' up hip hop

Is Brooklyn in the house? What about Queens in the
Manhattan in the 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'
you talkin' about?
Why you loud?"
What you talkin'

you talkin' about?
Why you loud?

What you about?
Why you loud?

What you about?
Why you loud?
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