Luyện nghe bài hát Carribean Connection

Yo, wanna rumble with Pun
on the whole industry
Yo who puff Owls than Pun? Pile on more styles than Pun?
Who the only one with over a guns?

Runnin' up in niggaz cribs I paid the bill
Make you squeal the to the safe for wealth
I lace grill with the fire starter
Hit your wife with the sawed-off from the powers I devour

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

Niggaz is cannibals and the ghetto's a
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 they can sacrifice for twenty grand

Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a pieces
And pound out we to the ground uptown
Up in the Boogie Down, bitches the team, pile on the green
in green like flowers in Spring

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

Mucho trabajo, dinero
I'm selling
Yo, the dilly yo?
I'm uptown making moves just Castro

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

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

It'll never happen, I'm on balance like a
And if I get murdered, Cry For Me Argentina'
Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me next to my
In three days, I rise like Christ and still

Now my open, in my hands I got the Gatling
I'm looking for the guy sent me to say hi to Satan
Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me I'm angry
I turn 'Mr. Neighborhood' topsy turvy

Foes and enemies the same 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 nuclear

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

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

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

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