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

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

New York, New York (New state of mind)

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

I'm at the, gamblin spot, my on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, in one spot
I take a nigga dough, him home to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put your in the jukebox
my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
thugs blastin they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggas both on parole or
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, army
I got my eyes glued on, walk in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, run up in here and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the in your kicks
Bunch of niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just with you
Some of these dudes the be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you
That ain't gangsta, is up North with tatted tears
Your on the affadavit, you ratted kid
niggas that be scared to do they bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated down
Comin back to floss, you got the jealous 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 hard to get the shit off
Niggas fightin over sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they ain't get a of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, survivors
Go to any hood live and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, some frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with