Luyện nghe bài hát Son Of Sam

I like the Son of Sam and it's '74
Shooting craps down by the Bodega
I got a mami that's my new mi amore
I always, feel the when I'm down in New York

1]
This feels like New York in the Summer time, where kids for the money signs
Mothers cryin, kids run inside a hundred rounds go brat brat brat
Spanish bitch wanna taste your neck, teasing you to make you sweat
When you passed out, she might your check
Didn't a sweat, she a patient vet

Hustlers all on the corner, sweaty palms with the piece on 'em
Dreams of copping Big Body with navigation and seat warmers
don't belong on no postal card, ballers chill at the local park
Sipping on blue Gatorade politicking bout new art

driving by, way too fast, swerving through traffic like someone is dying
Seem like be way too mad
It's thick in the air, a smell of the violence
Clouding a city never been silent
everyone's grinding
For a chance to be timeless, all for the shining
And no I don't to remind ya

x2]

2]
No disrespect to the culture in your neck of the
But Timbs and is something that I never understood
When I first landed, but I saw that shit handed
Muhfuckas is dead

Fuck lost, boy you can get got here
It seems like everyone rapping, how the hell you get hot
Man, is not realistic, no wonder they all can spit sick
And I thought I was gifted, pass the blunt let me get

Past the fact that I'm with cats
my talent, half my age, fuck a challenge, this career suicide
Unless I balance it out by harder and smarter
Plan ahead think farther, strap up be a father

No accidents, not if you want the chance to leave these convinced
Fickle as and they ain't giving two fucks
This the Mecca, the of hip hop
Where the best rappers than you on they worst day, I kid not

x2]

I feel the lighten' up for me
X8