Luyện nghe bài hát Now Y

Yeah, yeah, yo, yo
Yeah, yeah, yo, trapacanti, yo

When I walk streets, like bamboo I'm strapped
Get your brain tapped by caliber gats
It ain't like that, cats gotta to relax
If I let the gun clap, you no wish, you're on your ass

If you see at cat without his hangin' by his neck
Then LA done it, I'm tryin' to see this six-hundred
With a fly bitch, a gat and cognac blunted
Readin' the of my money from the kids that I fronted
You want it, shootin' slugs outta an armored green lex
From four pounds that fuck you up a plane wreck
Don't gamble with a tech, car is quicker the eye

My style, top secret like the spy
Now Y, New have you laced in chalk
The Bronx, what you thought when we let are guns talk?
bloodsport, the Darkman call it like he sees
Been in buildings, doin' eighty in a M3
swingin' on linx, costin' 'bout ten G's
N.Y.C., killas bust cops at me

I walk these streets, like bamboo I'm strapped
Get your brain tapped by caliber gats
It ain't like that, cats gotta to relax
If I let the gun clap, you have no wish, you're on ass

New ain't fuckin' playas, we love gun sprayers
Movin' crack from the of Manhatt' to the Himalayans
Amadeus, why these Cali craps to front?
Ass gotta cut ropes, to bungee jump
Tight cunt, all white planes roll, we creepers
In bubble coats, hundred beapers, force one sneakers
I stay fly, it down for my block
What up ock? You could get a four-four

And don't think it can't happen you on the TV rappin'
I from B.X., B.K. and the Staten
and Queens jookin' kids for rings
New York, New York, the big city of
Some rap legends were put in jail, you thought we
Now I'm back LL, when he was rockin' the bells
Takin' rap back to the of food stamps and tramps
Pit in the stair case and vise-grip clamps

Kid, I'm amped, cats try to diss the
In Land Cruisers, on Timbs, and elevators
Holdin' steel, you niggaz better get real
I'm gettin' money, blow my with a hundred dollar bill
How you And fuck where you at, it's where you from
To that cats, that's eighty-five, blind, deaf and

Run and get your gun, I come in the of Allah
To my people, the Inglewood family swine, power
You see, we runnin' outta time
If the east and west kill other, who gon' shine?
We losin' our mind, this rap shit is turnin' into
Nowadays soft niggaz bust techs and
So,