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

Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained
Neighbors, look at every bag you through your doors
Lock the top lock, shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved later my block
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, 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 later wearin
See the sergeant and the captain, men
gaspin for air, til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes, tired of riots, is quiet
fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, home from bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is
Had eight partners 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 four
he went O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four still hangin, years passin and slang changin
Three of us now, 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 friends
And we all goin out, to the death for these ends,

New York, New York (New York of mind)

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

I'm at the, spot, my hands on a knot
New Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I a nigga dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put your dollar in the
Hear my favorite song, all these niggas sing
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, flashin they tongue
Young blastin they gun, we got reputations
and niggas 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 here and shoot up this
yo' ass up, niggas'll find the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York
Lift you off your feet when was just talkin with you
Some of these the Feds be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up with 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 can't
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated down
Comin to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got 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 ain't 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, niggas frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up somethin

New York, New
New York, New