Luyện nghe bài hát Bronx Tale

Music please, yes, welcome to One's Envy'
We'd like to thank you in advance for purchasing this
It is a 'Relativity Records' product, artist, Fat Joe, my name is
And of course we're gonna bring the noise, 'cause we can never be

Yes, I am the ultimate, uttering for the fun of it
It to me you don't know who you fuckin' with
You see this with bifocals cause you're local
Can't hang with my vocals, better you with Sonny Bono

Or Ono, but KRS, oh, no, no
You might think you a ROTC, but I give a fuck though
I'm rolling hard God for the squad black
Packin' them poppers bitch, where money be at?

I be the show stopper, as I shine like gold
Other rappers dull like copper, the certified fake nigga
borough, is the thorough
I know, do you know, let me know I'm sayin'

The coke connector, sweating leather reflectors
get caught up in my sector, or I'ma haveta inject ya
With a slab of this dope shit
Fake MC's and wannabe's best to this

Fat Joe the true and living will
Kingpin like Sonny up in Tale
Will I I doubt it
I'm the nigga catchin' bodies, other niggaz fantasize about it

True indeed, behind my back MC's claim they can me
In my face screaming, "We're not worthy"
Youse a has been, actually you been
I be touring, you be home taping

So what punk, you could in a second
the bottom line, is where's your hit record
You claim I'm jocking, claim I'm on your dick, where's witnesses?
If I'm on dick my name has got to be syphillis

If you're feeling duck, then press your luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I don't clown
If feeling lucky duck, then press your luck
Buck, buck, buck take that witcha on the way

As we to lock it down, don't get it fucked up
We be the of the Boogie Down
All we do is izm and get cash
Tortuing MC's like warden up in Alcatraz
(Bo, bo, bo, bo)

It's Fat Joe, yo, you my steelo
Get so much love, I'm payin' on a kilo
Sendin' niggaz outta town, still got of the Boogie Down
Now how the you sound?
(Yeah)

Ain't no army that harm me or bomb me
G, you clowns ain't got a fucking thing on me
I'm flashy like linen
(Tell 'em)
Your rap is under pressure like two tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with and ain't no stopping me
I'm out for Bronx and Monopoly with on top of me
my philosophy, but for now it's in the corridor
Slappin' caps a ball, hittin' hard to my labrador
These motherfuckers want it
(Word to mother Joe, these niggaz don't it)

If you're feeling lucky duck, press your luck
Up, up, up and away 'cuz I play clown
If you're feeling lucky duck, then press luck
Buck, buck, buck, take witcha on the way down

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you worthy
My style is too curvy, what you me
But flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm your boss
KRS-One up in your memory

I know your kind, you rap
You're Mr. John Gotti, the Don, but you're just another mon
Telecro bwotty mon, how you
Rap magazine dating back to, than Leather

The reason you got, such an extensive rap collection
'Cuz most of rap mags are all stuck together
what you sayin', watch what you say
When your skull cracked, whatcha gonna say crackhead?

file is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed
'Fore I slap you way back in the like Ahmad
get me fed up or vexed up 'cuz you'll get set up
My don't let up, I be dead up in this piece
(Tell 'em)
Recognize BlastMaster KRS-One
For ten years, Fat Joe, chillin' on the