Luyện nghe bài hát Carribean Connection

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

Runnin' up in cribs like I paid the bill
Make you squeal the combination to the for wealth
I lace your grill with the starter
Hit your wife with the from the shower powers I devour

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

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

Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a pieces
And pound out we 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 more than money, all the honies
Used to call me, Punny 'cause my fam was hungry
But now we lovely, and you feel worse, want my money
Let your steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in first

trabajo, poquito dinero
I'm selling
Yo, what's the yo?
I'm making moves just like Castro

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

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 first time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate

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

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

Foes and enemies meaning the in the dictionary
This Pictionary, all you see is the cemetery
Bodies, from War I and II is there
You want a third war that's nuclear warfare

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

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

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