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

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, at every bag you bring through your doors
the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why It might've saved later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers off the stroll, coughin
Stitches in head, stinkin and I dread thinkin they be snitchin
But who else, could it be, shook at these, 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 sergeant and the captain, men
Niggas gaspin for air, til they move no and just stare
With dead eyes, of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, home from bids, sister's pregnant
on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had eight partners growin up, eight to seven
turned to six niggas, got two in heaven
Six of us, it, now it's five rollin thick
The sixth parole flipped, five niggas, went to four quick
When he went O.T., life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggas still hangin, years passin and changin
Three of us now, fourth nigga around
We all he was real, he did the snake shit
Fake shit, 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 out, to the death for these ends, WHAT?

New York, New York (New York of mind)

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

I'm at the, gamblin spot, my hands on a
New Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him home to a
You lost that nigga I put dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all niggas sing along
All the cigarette cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young blastin they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggas both on or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, fatigues
I got my eyes on, whoever walk in or leave
I ain't playin, niggas'll 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, New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just 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
name's 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 niggas, that relocated down South
Comin to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got and Bloods, D.T.'s
round quick to split 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 come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they ain't get a piece of sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto
Go to any hood live and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, niggas frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with