Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

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

Yes, I am the ultimate, uttering for the fun of it
It appears to me you don't know who you with
You can't see this with bifocals 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 give a fuck though
I'm rolling hard God for the squad black
them poppers bitch, where that money be at?

Aiyyo I be the stopper, as I shine like gold
Other rappers like copper, the certified fake nigga dropper
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
a slab of this lyrical dope shit
Fake MC's and best to quote this

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

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

So what punk, you could battle in a
the bottom line, is where's your 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, 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 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 warden up in
(Bo, bo, bo, bo)

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

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

I'm down Kris and ain't no stopping me
I'm out for and Monopoly with 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 Joe, these niggaz don't want it)

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

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

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

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