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

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

New York, New York (New state of mind)

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

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