Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn's Finest

Okay, I'm
You motherfuckers, think you big
with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time
Here the, "Pain"

Jigga, jigga, bigga,
Nigga, how you figure, how you
Yeah, yeah, yeah,

Peep the style and the way the cops us
The number one is can the feds get us
I got vendettas in games against ass betters
And niggaz who pump wheels and drive
that witcha

Hit ya, back split ya, fuck fights and lame scuffles
Pillow case to face, make the shell muffle
Shoot daughter in the calf muscle
Fuck a tussle,
Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug
hate it

Can't fade it while y'all pump Willie, I run up in silly
Scared, so you sent little mans to come kill me
But on the contrilli, I the mack-milli
Squeezed off on him, them paramedics
soft on him
What's ya

Who shot ya? Mob ties like
Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid yet
Tryin' to push 700's, they ain't made yet
Rolex and is frostbit, rings too
Niggaz 'round the way call me Igloo Stix,

Jay-Z and Smalls
Nigga shit ya
you from?
Brooklyn, out for all
Marcy, that's right, you stop
Bed-Stuy, you stop, nigga

What, what,
Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga ya drawers
Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you
You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can me?
I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, JV
Jigga,

And Bigga
My Bed-Stuy malicious, delicious
Fuck three wishes, my road to riches
From 62's, gem stars, my dishes
choppin', police van dockin'
D's at my doors

Keep rockin'
No more, Mister Guy, I twist your shit
The fuck with them pistols, blazin'
Hot like cajun, hotter than even holdin' at the
Days Inn with New York plates
Get up outta there, fuck ride

Keep your hands high, gets steeper here comes
The Grim Reaper, Frank Wright, leave the keys to
In-tegra, that's right, chill homie, the bitch in the told me
You're holdin' drugs than a pharmacy, you ain't harmin' me
So me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place
And here's six shots in case, Brooklyn

Jay-Z and Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers
Where you Brooklyn goin' out to all
Crown Heights, you stop
Brownsville, you won't stop, nigga,
Hah hah, Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, shit ya drawers
Where we from? Brooklyn out to all
Bushwick, you stop
Fort Greene, you stop, niggaz

Yeah, yeah,
For nine six, the MC with a flue
Yeah I sick, I be what you're tryin' to do
Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, China white
Nigga please, like short I bear arms
Stay out my way from on clear? Gone

Me and had two spots
The two for five dollar hits, the blue
Gotta go, Coolio mean gettin' "Too Hot"
If had twins
probably have two-Pac's
Get it?

Time to separate the pros from the
The from the bronze
That butter soft shit from leather on the Fonz
A S1 diamond a eye class don
A Dom' sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh?
Brook-Nam, on

Cristal forever, the crib when it's mink weather
The M.A.F.I.A. canons
In Marc Buchanans usually cuatro cinco
The shell sink slow, ya
Mad slugs through Nautica
I'm warnin' ya, hah, what the

Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya
Where you from? goin' out to all
Flatbush, you don't
Redhook, you stop, nigga, Brooklyn
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya
you from? Brooklyn goin' out to all
East New York, you stop
Hill, you won't stop, nigga
Is Brooklyn in the

Roc-A-Fella, y'all, M.A.F.I.A.
Superbad click, finest
You this
BK to the fullest