Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, welcome to 'Jealous One's
We'd like to thank you in advance for purchasing product
It is a 'Relativity Records' product, artist, Fat Joe, my is KRS-One
And of course gonna bring the noise, 'cause we can never be toys

Yes, I am the ultimate, uttering for the fun of it
It appears to me you don't know who you fuckin'
You can't see with bifocals cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, better you fuck with Sonny

Or Ono, but KRS, oh, no, no
You might think you a ROTC, but I don't give a fuck
I'm rolling hard like God for the squad
them poppers bitch, where that money be at?

Aiyyo I be the show stopper, as I shine gold
Other rappers dull like copper, the certified nigga dropper
borough, is the thorough
I know, do you know, let me I'm sayin' though

The coke connector, sweating leather reflectors
get caught up in my sector, or I'ma haveta inject ya
With a slab of this dope shit
MC's and wannabe's best to quote this

Fat Joe the and living will prevail
Kingpin like Sonny up in Bronx
Will I I doubt it
I'm the nigga catchin' bodies, other niggaz fantasize about it

True indeed, behind my back MC's claim can serve me
In my face screaming, "We're not worthy"
Youse a has been, you ain't been
I be touring, while you be home

So what punk, you battle in a second
Frankly the bottom line, is your hit record
You claim I'm jocking, claim I'm on dick, where's your witnesses?
If I'm on your dick my name has got to be

If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I don't clown
If you're feeling lucky duck, then your luck
Buck, buck, buck that witcha on the way down

As we to lock it down, don't get it fucked up
We be the kings of the Down
All we do is izm and get cash
Tortuing MC's that warden up in Alcatraz
(Bo, bo, bo, bo)

It's Fat Joe, yo, you know my
Get so love, I'm payin' sixteen on a kilo
niggaz outta town, still got control of the Boogie Down
Now how the fuck you
(Yeah)

Ain't no that could harm me or bomb me
C'mon G, you clowns ain't got a fucking on me
I'm flashy like white
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two outs tied score in the inning

I'm down with Kris and ain't no me
I'm out for Bronx and Monopoly with on top of me
my philosophy, but for now it's in the corridor
Slappin' caps a ball, hittin' hard to my labrador
These motherfuckers don't it
(Word to mother Joe, these don't want it)

If feeling lucky duck, then press your luck
Up, up, up and 'cuz I don't play clown
If you're feeling duck, then press your luck
Buck, buck, buck, take witcha on the way down

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you worthy
My style is too curvy, what you me
But your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm boss
With KRS-One up in your

I know kind, you rap write
You're Mr. John Gotti, the Don, but just another bwotty mon
bwotty mon, how you collect
Rap magazine back to, Tougher than Leather

The only reason you got, an extensive rap collection
'Cuz most of rap mags are all stuck together
Watch what you sayin', watch you say
your skull gets cracked, whatcha gonna say crackhead?

Your is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed
'Fore I slap you way back in the dayz like
Don't get me fed up or vexed up you'll get set up
My crew don't let up, I be up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
Recognize it's BlastMaster
For ten years, Fat Joe, chillin' on the