Luyện nghe bài hát Carribean Connection

Yo, wanna with Pun hah?
Shit on the whole
Yo who puff more Owls than Pun? Pile on more styles Pun?
Who the only one with a thousand guns?

Runnin' up in cribs like I paid the bill
Make you the combination to the safe for wealth
I your grill with the fire starter
Hit your wife with the from the shower powers I devour

I'm all about the fundamentals Pun and pencil
A piece of paper, a decent and someone to strafe you
My compatible with the radicals
My type, qualities allow me to poli' with animals

Niggaz is cannibals and the a jungle
Where you bet all your bundles
Or on the simple and humble
My niggaz'll with any man for a Benny Fran
Try to imagine what they can sacrifice for twenty

Niggaz'll slice you and you into a thousand pieces
And out we jettin' to the ground uptown
Up in the Boogie Down, bitches swallow the team, on the green
Surrounded in green like in Spring

For now I'm a King, so it's than money, all the honies
Used to me, Punny 'cause my fam was always hungry
But now we rollin' lovely, and you worse, want my money
Let your steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in hell

Mucho trabajo, poquito
I'm perico
Yo, the dilly yo?
I'm uptown making just like Castro

Mucho trabajo, dinero
I'm perico
Yo, what's the yo?
I'm uptown making moves just Castro

Yo, yo, yo, keep the lights the camera all I want is the action
The battle's on, where I in composition
A hardcore crowd, to see, if I break
like your time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate

It'll happen, I'm on balance like a Libra
And if I get murdered, 'Don't Cry For Me
Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me to my father
In three days, I rise like Christ and sober

Now my eyes open, in my hands I got the
I'm looking for the guy that me to say hi to Satan
Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me when I'm
I turn 'Mr. Rogers topsy turvy

Foes and enemies meaning the in the dictionary
ain't Pictionary, all you see is the cemetery
Bodies, World War I and II is there
You don't want a third war that's warfare

So Big Pun, count the stacks, make it
money turns legal now we runnin' a laundromat
Your and wack rap is packed in your backpack
better off in D.C. with the mayor smoking crack

Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb
Run out of the building or get in your guess
Tec for tec, or we can go for text, oh
I forgot, you read, so take this hole in your chest, blaow

Hide the blood, give you the gun, run and
So when the DT up
He thought it was a
Suicide, a suicide

trabajo, poquito dinero
I'm selling
Yo what's the yo?
I'm making moves just like Castro