Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, welcome to One's Envy'
We'd like to thank you in advance for this product
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, ultimatum's for the fun of it
It appears to me you don't know who you fuckin'
You can't see this with cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, better you with Sonny Bono

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

Aiyyo I be the stopper, as I shine like gold
Other dull 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, sweating with reflectors
Don't get caught up in my sector, or I'ma inject ya
With a slab of lyrical dope shit
Fake MC's and wannabe's best to quote

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

True indeed, behind my back MC's claim they can 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 battle in a second
the bottom line, is where's your hit record
You claim I'm jocking, claim I'm on dick, where's your witnesses?
If I'm on dick my name has got to be syphillis

If feeling lucky duck, then press your luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I play clown
If you're feeling lucky duck, press your luck
Buck, buck, buck take that on the way down

As we proceed to it down, don't get it fucked up
We be the kings of the Down
All we do is izm and get cash
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 payin' on a kilo
Sendin' niggaz outta town, still got control of the Boogie
Now how the fuck you
(Yeah)

Ain't no army that 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 pressure like two outs tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with Kris and 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
Slappin' caps a ball, hittin' hard to my labrador
These motherfuckers don't it
(Word to mother Joe, these don't want it)

If you're feeling lucky duck, 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, take that witcha on the way

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you worthy
My style is too curvy, what you me
But your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm your
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 bwotty mon, how you
Rap magazine back to, Tougher than Leather

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

Your is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed
'Fore I slap you way back in the dayz Ahmad
Don't get me fed up or vexed up 'cuz 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, chillin' on the