Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

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

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

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

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

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

Fat Joe the true and living prevail
Kingpin like Sonny up in Tale
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 they screaming, "We're not worthy"
Youse a has been, actually you been
I be touring, you be home taping

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

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

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

It's Fat Joe, yo, you my steelo
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)

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

I'm with Kris and ain't no stopping me
I'm out for Bronx and with chicks 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 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 duck, then press your luck
Buck, buck, buck, take that witcha on the way

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you 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. John Gotti, the Don, but you're just another mon
Telecro mon, how you collect
Rap dating back to, Tougher than Leather

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

Your file is dead, 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 don't let up, I be up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
Recognize it's KRS-One
For ten years, Fat Joe, on the East