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

Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained
Neighbors, look at bag you bring through your doors
the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers off the stroll, coughin
Stitches in they head, and I dread thinkin they be snitchin
But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked
Parked in the dark, NARC's, where's your
starve, they bust a U-ey, I jog
To my building, come out later camouflage
See the and the captain, strangle men
gaspin for air, til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes, tired of riots, shit is
Simple-minded infiltrate grimy crews
cribs, uncles home from bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had eight partners growin up, eight turned to
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
he went O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four still hangin, years passin and slang changin
Three of us now, fourth nigga 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, a fuckin clown
All I got left in the end is two of my best
And we all goin out, to the death for ends, WHAT?

New York, New (New York 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 chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the murder
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 dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these niggas sing
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin tongue
thugs blastin they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggas on parole or probation
Shit is sick, got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on, walk in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, niggas'll run up in here and up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll the loot in your kicks
Bunch of niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when was just talkin with you
of these dudes the Feds be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you
That gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted tears
Your on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas that be scared to do bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you live
Got quiet niggas, that relocated down 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 to score
But it's to get the shit off
fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they 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 frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so me come up with somethin