Luyện nghe bài hát Carribean Connection

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

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

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

Niggaz is and the ghetto's a jungle
Where you either bet all your
Or struggle on the and humble
My niggaz'll rumble any man for a Benny Fran
Try to imagine what can sacrifice for twenty grand

Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a pieces
And pound out we jettin' to the ground
Up in the Boogie Down, bitches swallow the team, pile on the
Surrounded in green like 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 always
But now we rollin' lovely, and you worse, want my money
Let steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in hell first

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

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

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

It'll happen, I'm on balance like a Libra
And if I get murdered, Cry For Me Argentina'
Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me next to my
In days, I rise like Christ and still sober

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

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

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

Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb
Run out of the building or get blast in 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 the DT shows up
He thought it was a
Suicide, it's a

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