Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn's Finest

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

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

Peep the style and the way the sweat us
The number one question is can the get us
I got in dice games against ass betters
And niggaz who wheels and drive Jettas
Take that

Hit ya, back split ya, fuck fist and lame scuffles
case to your face, make the shell muffle
Shoot your daughter in the muscle
a tussle, nickel-plated
Sprinkle coke on the floor, it drug related
Most it

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

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

Jay-Z and Biggie
Nigga shit ya
you from?
Brooklyn, out for all
Marcy, that's right, you don't
Bed-Stuy, you stop, nigga

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

And baby
My Bed-Stuy malicious, delicious
three wishes, made my road to riches
From 62's, gem stars, my dishes
Gram choppin', police van
D's at my knockin'

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

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

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

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

Me and had two spots
The two for five dollar hits, the tops
Gotta go, Coolio mean gettin' "Too Hot"
If had twins
She'd probably have
Get it?

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

forever, play the crib when it's mink weather
The M.A.F.I.A. keep
In they Marc Buchanans cuatro cinco
The shell sink slow, ya
Mad slugs through Nautica
I'm ya, hah, what the fuck?

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

Roc-A-Fella, y'all, M.A.F.I.A.
click, Brooklyn's finest
You rewind
Represetin' BK to the