Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, to 'Jealous One's Envy'
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It is a 'Relativity product, artist, Fat Joe, my name is KRS-One
And of course we're bring the noise, 'cause we can never be toys

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

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

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

The coke connector, leather with reflectors
Don't get caught up in my sector, or I'ma haveta ya
With a slab of this dope shit
MC's and wannabe's best to quote this

Fat Joe the true and living will
Kingpin like up in Bronx Tale
Will I fail? I it
I'm the nigga catchin' bodies, while other niggaz fantasize it

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

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

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

As we proceed to lock it down, get it fucked up
We be the of the Boogie Down
All we do is izm and get cash
Tortuing MC's like that up in Alcatraz
(Bo, bo, bo, bo)

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

no army that could harm me or bomb me
C'mon G, you clowns got a fucking thing on me
I'm flashy like white
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two outs tied in the ninth inning

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

If you're feeling lucky duck, then your luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I don't play
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, you tellin' me
But your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm boss
With KRS-One up in memory

I know your kind, you rap
You're Mr. John Gotti, the Don, but you're just another mon
Telecro 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
what you sayin', watch what you say
When your skull gets cracked, whatcha say crackhead?

file 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 up 'cuz you'll get set up
My don't let up, I be dead up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
Recognize it's BlastMaster
For ten years, Fat Joe, chillin' on the