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

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the
Why not? It might've saved later from my
N.Y. cops, hookers off the stroll, coughin
Stitches in they head, stinkin and I thinkin they be snitchin
But who else, could it be, shook at these, vans
in the dark, NARC's, where's your heart?
Hustlers starve, they a U-ey, I jog
To my building, come out later camouflage
See the and the captain, strangle men
Niggas gaspin for air, til they move no more and stare
With dead eyes, of riots, shit is quiet
fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is
Had eight partners growin up, eight turned to
Seven to six niggas, got two in heaven
Six of us, holdin it, now it's rollin thick
The sixth one's parole flipped, five niggas, to four quick
When he went O.T., college life, converted 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 snake
Fake shit, his ass down, yo his mouth
Could've got us all wasted, what a fuckin
All I got left in the end is two of my best
And we all goin out, to the for these ends, WHAT?

New York, New York (New state of mind)

You heard about it, you see it
You read about it, in your papers
It's in daily news ("Get money!")
New chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the rate
The money rate, the paper chase, you 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 nigga dough, send him home to a
You lost that nigga I put your dollar in the
my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young blastin they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, fatigues
I got my glued on, whoever walk in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, niggas'll run up in here and shoot up this
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, New York niggas
Lift you off your feet they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type when you in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up 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 your quiet niggas, that 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 mug, it's ea-sy to score
But it's hard to get the off
Niggas fightin over hundred sales, in the car and drive off
When the fiend come 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 watch me up with somethin

New York, New
New York, New