Luyện nghe bài hát N.y. State Of Mind Part Ii

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring your doors
Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the
Why not? It might've later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll,
Stitches in they head, stinkin and I dread thinkin they be
But who else, could it be, shook at these, vans
Parked in the dark, NARC's, where's heart?
Hustlers starve, they a U-ey, I jog
To my building, come out wearin camouflage
See the and the captain, strangle men
Niggas gaspin for air, til they move no more and stare
With dead eyes, tired of riots, is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles from bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had eight partners growin up, turned to seven
Seven to six niggas, got two in heaven
Six of us, holdin it, now it's five thick
The sixth one's parole flipped, niggas, went to four quick
When he went O.T., life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggas still hangin, years and slang changin
of us now, fourth nigga ain't around
We all thought he was real, he did the snake
shit, beat his ass down, yo his mouth
Could've got us all wasted, what a clown
All I got left in the end is two of my friends
And we all goin out, to the death for ends, WHAT?

New York, New York (New York of mind)

You about it, you see about it
You read about it, it's in your
It's in your daily ("Get money!")
New chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the rate
The money rate, the paper chase, you what I mean?
New state of mind baby, check it out

I'm at the, spot, my hands on a knot
New York cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him home to a
You lost that nigga I put your in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these niggas sing
All the smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young thugs they gun, we got reputations
and niggas both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, army
I got my glued on, whoever walk in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, run up in here and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York
you off your feet when they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on em, you knew em for
Be the when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up with tatted tears
Your on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas be scared to do they bids
you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated South
Comin back to floss, you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin round quick to split your mug, it's ea-sy to
But hard to get the shit off
Niggas over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause ain't get a piece of that sale
connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, some niggas
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up somethin