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 forty-four caliber
It ain't that, cats gotta learn to relax
If I let the gun clap, you have no wish, on your ass

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

My style, top like the Bosnian spy
Now Y, New York you laced in chalk
The South Bronx, you thought when we let are guns talk?
It's bloodsport, the Darkman call it like he
Been in buildings, doin' in a black M3
Medallion 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 by fourty-four caliber gats
It ain't like that, cats learn 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' from the streets of Manhatt' to the Himalayans
Amadeus, why Cali craps tryin' to front?
Ass gotta cut ropes, tryin' to bungee
Tight cunt, all white planes roll, we creepers
In bubble coats, eight hundred beapers, one sneakers
I stay fly, it down for my block
What up ock? You get a four-four shot

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

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

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