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
the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers off the stroll, coughin
in they head, stinkin and I dread thinkin they be snitchin
But who else, could it be, at these, unmarked vans
Parked in the dark, NARC's, your heart?
Hustlers starve, they a U-ey, I jog
To my building, come out wearin camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain, men
gaspin for air, til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes, of riots, shit is quiet
fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles 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 five rollin thick
The sixth one's parole flipped, five niggas, went to four
When he O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggas hangin, years passin and slang changin
Three of us now, nigga ain't 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, what a clown
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 about it, you see about it
You read about it, it's in papers
It's in your news ("Get money!")
New York chronicles, day
The rate, the murder rate
The rate, the paper chase, you know what I mean?
New York state of baby, check it out

I'm at the, spot, my hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, in one spot
I take a dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put dollar in the jukebox
my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats 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, whoever in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, niggas'll run up in here and shoot up this
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York
Lift you off your feet they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on em, you em for years
Be the type you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up North 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 live
Got quiet niggas, that relocated down South
Comin back to floss, then you got the jealous
All of a sudden we got and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin round quick to split your mug, it's ea-sy to
But it's to get the shit off
Niggas fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and off
When the fiend come the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, survivors
Go to any hood that's and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, real, some niggas frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up somethin

New York, New
New York, New