Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, welcome to 'Jealous One's
We'd like to thank you in advance for this product
It is a 'Relativity Records' product, artist, Fat Joe, my name is
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 to me you don't know who you fuckin' with
You can't see this bifocals cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, better you with Sonny Bono

Or Ono, but KRS, oh, no, no
You might think you a ROTC, but I give a fuck though
I'm rolling hard God for the squad black
Packin' them poppers bitch, where that be at?

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

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

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

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

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

If feeling lucky duck, then press your luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I don't clown
If you're feeling lucky duck, press your luck
Buck, buck, take that witcha 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 izm and get cash
Tortuing like that warden up in Alcatraz
(Bo, bo, bo, bo)

Fat Joe, yo, you know my steelo
Get so much love, I'm payin' on a kilo
Sendin' niggaz town, still got control of the Boogie Down
Now how the you sound?
(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 linen
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with Kris and ain't no 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 motherfuckers don't it
(Word to mother Joe, niggaz don't want it)

If you're feeling lucky duck, then press luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I play clown
If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your
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 your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm boss
With KRS-One up in memory

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

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

file is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed
'Fore I slap you way in the dayz like Ahmad
Don't get me fed up or vexed up you'll get set up
My crew let up, I be dead up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
Recognize BlastMaster KRS-One
For ten years, Fat Joe, on the East