Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

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It is a Records' 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 don't know who you fuckin'
You see this with bifocals cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, you fuck with Sonny Bono

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
Packin' them 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
Which borough, is the
I know, do you know, let me I'm sayin' though

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

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

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

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 your dick, your witnesses?
If I'm on your dick my has got to be syphillis

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

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

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

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

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

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

Merrrcy, you wanna me but you ain't worthy
My style is too curvy, what you me
But flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm your boss
With up in your memory

I know your kind, you rap
You're Mr. Gotti, the Don, but you're just another bwotty mon
Telecro bwotty mon, how you
Rap magazine dating back to, than Leather

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

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