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

Broken in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your
Lock the top lock, momma cuffed me to the radiator
Why It might've saved later from 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, shook at these, vans
Parked in the dark, NARC's, where's heart?
Hustlers starve, they a U-ey, I jog
To my building, out later wearin camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain, men
Niggas for air, til they move no more and just stare
dead eyes, tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, pregnant
on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had partners growin up, eight turned to seven
Seven turned to six niggas, got two in
Six of us, holdin it, now it's rollin thick
The sixth one's flipped, five niggas, went to four quick
When he O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
niggas still hangin, years passin and slang changin
Three of us now, nigga ain't around
We all he was real, he did the snake shit
Fake shit, beat his ass down, yo his
Could've got us all wasted, what a fuckin
All I got in the end is two of my best friends
And we all goin out, to the for these ends, WHAT?

New York, New (New York state of mind)

You heard about it, you see it
You read about it, it's in your
It's in your 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 mind baby, it out

I'm at the, gamblin spot, my hands on a
New Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I a nigga dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin tongue
Young thugs blastin gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggas both on or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, fatigues
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 find the loot in kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York
Lift you off your feet when they was talkin with you
Some of these the Feds be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you
ain't gangsta, niggas is up North 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 niggas, that relocated down South
Comin back to floss, then you got the loudmouths
All of a we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin quick to split your mug, it's ea-sy to score
But hard to get the shit off
Niggas over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas, mad they ain't get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto
Go to any hood that's 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