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

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, look at bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved later from my
N.Y. cops, hookers off the stroll, coughin
Stitches in they head, stinkin and I dread thinkin be snitchin
But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked
Parked in the dark, NARC's, where's your
Hustlers starve, they a U-ey, I jog
To my building, out later wearin camouflage
See the and the captain, strangle men
Niggas for air, til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes, tired of riots, is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home bids, sister's pregnant
on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had eight growin up, eight turned to seven
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, went to quick
When he O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggas hangin, years passin and slang changin
Three of us now, fourth ain't around
We all thought he was real, he did the shit
Fake shit, his ass down, yo his mouth
got us all wasted, what 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 York of mind)

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

I'm at the, spot, my hands on a knot
New York cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I a nigga dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost nigga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all niggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, flashin they tongue
Young thugs blastin they gun, we got
Bitches and niggas both on or probation
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 the loot in your kicks
of triple-cross niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off feet when they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on em, you em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted
Your on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas that be to do they bids
you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live
Got quiet niggas, that relocated down South
Comin back to floss, then you got the jealous
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 fightin over 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
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto
Go to any hood live and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, some niggas
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with

New York, New
New York, New