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

Broken glass in the hallway, floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you through your doors
Lock the top lock, shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll,
Stitches in they head, stinkin and I dread they be snitchin
But who else, it be, shook at these, unmarked vans
Parked in the dark, NARC's, where's your
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 and just stare
dead eyes, tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded 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 went O.T., college life, converted gangbangin
Four niggas still hangin, years passin and slang
Three of us now, fourth 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 fuckin
All I got left in the end is two of my friends
And we all goin out, to the for these ends, WHAT?

New York, New York (New York of mind)

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

I'm at the, gamblin spot, my on a knot
New York cap cover my eyes, stand 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 flashin tongue
Young thugs blastin they gun, we got
Bitches and niggas on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, fatigues
I got my eyes glued on, whoever in or leave
Cause I ain't playin, niggas'll run up in here and shoot up shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the loot in your
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York
Lift you off your feet when they was talkin with you
of these dudes the Feds be on em, you knew em for years
Be the when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted tears
name's on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas that be scared to do they
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated down
back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin round quick to split your mug, it's ea-sy to
But hard to get the shit off
Niggas fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and off
the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad cause they ain't get a piece of sale
connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, niggas frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with

New York, New
New York, New