Luyện nghe bài hát The Recipe

[Fat Joe (Mack 10)
Yeah, Terror motherfucker!
(And the Hoo affiliates.) Uh huh.
I know you ain't you was gon see this niggas.
(Nope.) coast, west coast. (It's all the same.)
Crack, Big Pun, Mack 10.
(Speak on it, Joe.)
Haha, what!

Joe]
At times I feel blastin myself, endin it all
Niggas on my same team be I fall
Tellin the feds, I'm still cappin the raw
all about the stash box on the floor of my Porshe
Boy George-in it, livin the of the fortunate
Show you how my fuckin coffee get
My crew often get the blame for hideous
Why do niggas stay platinum with the rhymes?
Can't call it, all these niggas that they ballin
But it appears empire's fallen
with Joe and Pun, real niggas since day one
The same cats you get ?terroria?
East coast, west coast, man all the same
Niggas won't know till they feel the flame
It's still insane, since the track
Blowin whole back, with the mack, we'll let ya know black

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It's all weight, work, guns, yay
motherfuckers chase dough and don't play
Y'all motherfuckers don't move, we spray
Big Pun, Fat Joe, 10 baby

[Big
Check what you thought
Pun and Joe, the kings of Nueva
Spittin thoughts with twin, 10 the chicken hawk
We the 'cause killers walk in muddy boots
Once my dogs cut me lose, that's a in your bubblygoose
Fuck is you like you crazy
Barkin you eighty
Or have you crawlin, walkin a baby
Don't try to me 'cause I'm not a playa
Hey yo I shot the place up and pass the off like a hot potatoe
I'm out to make a million but still I'm rowdy
So I hope it happen rappin before I have to somebody
how it is in the stone jungle
If you to own a bundle guaranteed nigga gon mug you
And no one love you you broke as shit, focus kid
Commercials don't lie, thirsty to Coke is in
Blow your life away, a big price to pay
You been teachin your kid how to ride his bike today

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10]
I hit the la la, and the ya ya
And if y'all get him, I promise I'll try
Hoo Bangin affiliates is the so the silliest
get to see just how fast the nine milly spit
Mack 10, Big Pun and Joey
Real niggas push big and big sacks
Y'all it was cool, I got to ok this
I usually paytons, y'all bring the scale so we can weight this
It better be pure, you ain't got a birdie mix
Hey yo, put it up there, and sure it's all 36
I you can count nigga, better be precise
If it ain't all there that's dope and your life
From the school of knocks, Inglewood to the Bronx
We hit the blocks and cook the rocks in forty
Hit like we supposed to, sippin on Hen
TS and Mack 10, so let the begin

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