Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

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It is a 'Relativity product, artist, Fat Joe, my name 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 know who you fuckin' with
You can't see this with bifocals cause local
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 give a fuck
I'm rolling hard like God for the squad
Packin' them poppers bitch, where money be at?

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

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

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

True indeed, behind my MC's claim 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 home

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

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

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

It's Fat Joe, yo, you know my
Get so much love, I'm sixteen on a kilo
Sendin' niggaz outta town, 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 ain't got a fucking thing on me
I'm flashy white linen
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with 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 it's in the
caps 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 press your
Up, up, up and 'cuz I don't play clown
If you're lucky duck, then press your luck
Buck, buck, buck, take that witcha on the way

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

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

The only 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 back in the dayz like
Don't get me fed up or up 'cuz 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