Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn's Finest

Okay, I'm
You motherfuckers, you big time?
Fuckin' Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time
Here the, "Pain"

Jigga, jigga, bigga,
Nigga, how you figure, how you
Yeah, yeah, yeah,

Peep the and the way the cops sweat us
The number one is can the feds get us
I got vendettas in dice games ass betters
And who pump wheels and drive Jettas
Take that

Hit ya, back split ya, fist fights and lame scuffles
Pillow to your face, make the shell muffle
Shoot your in the calf muscle
Fuck a tussle,
Sprinkle on the floor, make it drug related
Most it

Can't it while y'all pump Willie, I run up in stunts silly
Scared, so you your little mans to come kill me
But on the contrilli, I packs the
Squeezed off on him, them paramedics
Breathin' on him
What's ya

Who shot ya? Mob like Sinatra
Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid yet
Tryin' to push 700's, ain't made them yet
Rolex and is frostbit, rings too
Niggaz 'round the way call me Igloo Stix,

Jay-Z and Smalls
shit ya drawers
Where you
Brooklyn, out for all
Marcy, that's right, you stop
Bed-Stuy, you won't stop,

What, what,
Jay-Z, Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers
represent y'all, hit you fold
You crazy, think your bit of rhymes can play me?
I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, JV
Jigga,

And Bigga
My flow's malicious, delicious
three wishes, made my road to riches
From 62's, gem stars, my moms
Gram choppin', van dockin'
D's at my doors

What? rockin'
No more, Mister Guy, I twist your shit
The back with them pistols, blazin'
Hot like cajun, hotter than even work at the
Days Inn with New plates outside
Get up there, fuck your ride

Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper here
The Reaper, Frank Wright, leave the keys to your
In-tegra, that's right, chill homie, the bitch in the Shoney's me
You're more drugs than a pharmacy, you ain't harmin' me
So me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place
And six shots just in case, Brooklyn

Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya
Where you from? Brooklyn out to all
Crown Heights, you don't
Brownsville, you stop, nigga, Brooklyn
Hah hah, Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, shit ya drawers
Where we from? Brooklyn out to all
Bushwick, you stop
Fort Greene, you won't stop,

Yeah, yeah,
For six, the only MC with a flue
Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what tryin' to do
a fortune off Peru, extradite, China white heron
Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear
Stay out my way here on clear? Gone

Me and Gutter had two
The two for five hits, the blue tops
Gotta go, Coolio mean it's "Too Hot"
If Fay' had
She'd have two-Pac's
Get it?

Time to separate the pros the cons
The platinum from the
butter soft shit from that leather on the Fonz
A S1 from a eye class don
A Cham' sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh?
Brook-Nam, on

Cristal forever, play the crib it's mink weather
The M.A.F.I.A. canons
In they Marc usually cuatro cinco
The sink slow, tossin' ya
Mad slugs through your
I'm warnin' ya, hah, the fuck?

Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga ya drawers
Where you Brooklyn goin' out to all
Flatbush, you don't
Redhook, you won't stop, nigga,
and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers
Where you from? Brooklyn out to all
New York, you don't stop
Clinton Hill, you stop, nigga
Is in the house?

Roc-A-Fella, y'all, M.A.F.I.A.
Superbad click, Brooklyn's
You this
BK to the fullest