Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn's Finest

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

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

the style and the way the cops sweat us
The number one question is can the get us
I got vendettas in dice games ass betters
And niggaz who pump and drive Jettas
Take witcha

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

fade 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, them paramedics
soft on him
What's ya

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, yeah,
For nine six, the only MC a flue
Yeah I sick, I be what you're 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 had two spots
The two for five dollar hits, the blue
Gotta go, mean it's 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 soft from that leather on the Fonz
A S1 diamond a eye class don
A Cham' Dom' sipper from a Rosay nigga,
Brook-Nam, on

Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink
The M.A.F.I.A. keep
In they Marc Buchanans usually cuatro
The shell slow, tossin' ya
Mad slugs your 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 don't
Redhook, you stop, nigga, Brooklyn
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga ya drawers
Where you Brooklyn goin' out to all
East New York, you don't
Clinton Hill, you stop, nigga
Is in the house?

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