Luyện nghe bài hát Now Y

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

When I these streets, like bamboo I'm strapped
Get your brain tapped by forty-four caliber
It ain't like that, cats learn 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 Benz six-hundred
a fly bitch, a gat and cognac gettin' blunted
Readin' the tablet of my money from the kids that I
You want it, shootin' slugs outta an armored green lex
four pounds that fuck you up like a plane wreck
Don't gamble a tech, car is quicker than the eye

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

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

New York ain't fuckin' playas, we gun sprayers
Movin' crack from the streets of to the Himalayans
Amadeus, why Cali craps tryin' to front?
Ass gotta cut ropes, tryin' to jump
Tight cunt, all white planes roll, we night
In bubble coats, eight hundred beapers, force one
I stay fly, holdin' it down for my
What up ock? You get a four-four shot

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

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

Run and get your gun, I in the name of Allah
To my people, the Inglewood family swine, refined
You can't see, we runnin' outta
If the east and west each other, who gon' shine?
We our mind, this rap shit is turnin' into crime
Nowadays soft niggaz bust and nines
So,