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

Broken in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring your doors
Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the
Why It might've saved later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll,
Stitches in 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, where's heart?
starve, they bust a U-ey, I jog
To my building, out later wearin camouflage
See the and the captain, strangle men
Niggas gaspin for air, til they no more and just stare
With eyes, tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, home from bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, moms is smokin, is piss-infested
Had eight partners up, eight turned to seven
Seven to six niggas, got two in heaven
Six of us, holdin it, now it's five thick
The sixth one's parole flipped, five niggas, went to quick
When he went O.T., college life, converted gangbangin
Four niggas still hangin, years passin and changin
Three of us now, nigga ain't around
We all thought he was real, he did the snake
Fake shit, beat his ass down, yo his
Could've got us all wasted, what a clown
All I got left in the end is two of my best
And we all out, to the death for these ends, WHAT?

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 chronicles, every day
The rate, the murder rate
The money rate, the paper chase, you know what I
New state of mind baby, check it out

I'm at the, gamblin spot, my hands on a
New York cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, him home to a shoebox
You that nigga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young thugs blastin gun, we got reputations
and niggas 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 and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the loot in kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin 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, is up North with tatted tears
Your on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas that be to do they bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you live
Got your quiet niggas, relocated down South
Comin to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin round quick to your mug, it's ea-sy to score
But hard 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 they ain't get a piece of that
Cutthroat connivers, universal, survivors
Go to any hood live and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheamin, some real, some frontin
But I'm a big dreamer, so me come up with somethin

New York, New
New York, New