Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, welcome to 'Jealous One's
like to thank you in advance for purchasing this product
It is a 'Relativity product, artist, Fat Joe, my name is KRS-One
And of course we're gonna bring the noise, 'cause we can be toys

Yes, I am the ultimate, ultimatum's for the fun of it
It appears to me you don't who you fuckin' with
You can't see this bifocals cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, better you fuck 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 like God for the black
Packin' them bitch, where that money be at?

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

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

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

True indeed, behind my back MC's they can serve me
In my they 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 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, take that witcha on the way down

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

It's Fat Joe, yo, you know my
Get so much love, I'm payin' on a kilo
Sendin' niggaz 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 thing on me
I'm flashy like white
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two outs tied score in the ninth

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

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

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you ain't
My style is too curvy, you tellin' me
But your flimsy ass will go home the battle and find I'm your boss
KRS-One up in your memory

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

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

Your 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 up 'cuz you'll get set up
My don't let up, I be dead up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
it's BlastMaster KRS-One
For ten years, Fat Joe, on the East