Luyện nghe bài hát Carribean Connection

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

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

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

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

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 flowers in Spring

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

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

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

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

It'll never happen, I'm on balance like a
And if I get murdered, 'Don't Cry For Me
Pour me a cup of vodka, me next to my father
In three days, I rise like and still sober

Now my eyes open, in my I got the Gatling
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 'Mr. Rogers Neighborhood' topsy turvy

Foes and meaning the same in the dictionary
This Pictionary, all you see is the cemetery
Bodies, from World War I and II is
You don't want a war that's nuclear warfare

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

Yo, this ain't a diss, bomb threat
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, you the gun, run and hide
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