Luyện nghe bài hát N.Y. State Of Mind Pt. II

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your
Lock the top lock, momma cuffed me to the radiator
Why It might've saved later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll,
Stitches in head, stinkin 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 heart?
starve, they 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 they move no and just stare
With dead eyes, of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sister's
Father's on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is
Had eight partners growin up, turned to seven
Seven turned to six niggas, got two in
Six of us, holdin it, now five rollin thick
The sixth one's parole flipped, niggas, went to four quick
he went O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggas still hangin, passin and slang changin
of us now, fourth nigga ain't around
We all thought he was real, he did the shit
Fake shit, 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 York (New state of mind)

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

I'm at the, spot, my hands on a knot
New Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him to a shoebox
You lost that I put your dollar in the jukebox
my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young thugs blastin gun, we got reputations
Bitches and both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on, whoever walk in or
Cause I ain't playin, niggas'll run up in and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, find the loot in your kicks
of triple-cross niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off your when they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on em, you knew em for
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they you beers
ain't gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted tears
Your name's on the affadavit, you 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
back to floss, then 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
Niggas fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and off
When the come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they ain't get a of that sale
connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's live and it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, some frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so me come up with somethin

New York, New
New York, New