Caribbean Connection (feat. Wyclef Jean)

Warning Yo, wanna rumble with Pun hah? Shit on the whole industry Yo who puff more Owls than Pun? Pile on more styles than Pun? Who the only one with over a thousand guns? Runnin' up in niggaz cribs like I paid the bill Make you squeal the combination to the safe for wealth I lace your grill with the fire starter Hit your wife with the sawed-off from the shower powers I devour I'm all about the fundamentals like Pun and pencil A piece of paper, a decent caper and someone to strafe you My mental's compatible with the radicals My odyssey type, qualities allow me to poli' with animals Niggaz is cannibals and the ghetto's a jungle Where you either bet all your bundles Or struggle on the simple and humble My niggaz'll rumble with any man for a Benny Fran Try to imagine what they can sacrifice for twenty grand Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a thousand pieces And pound out we jettin' to the ground uptown Up in the Boogie Down, bitches swallow the team, pile on the green Surrounded in green like flowers in Spring For now I'm a King, so it's more than money, all the honies Used to call me, Punny 'cause my fam was always hungry But now we rollin' lovely, and you feel worse, want my money Let your steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in hell first Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero I'm selling perico Yo, what's the dilly yo? I'm uptown making moves just like Castro Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero I'm selling perico Yo, what's the dilly yo? I'm uptown making moves just like Castro Yo, yo, yo, keep the lights keep the camera all I want is the action The battle's on, where I roam in composition A hardcore crowd, waitin' to see, if I break Like your first time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate It'll never happen, I'm on balance like a Libra And if I get murdered, 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me next to my father In three days, I rise like Christ and still sober Now my eyes open, in my hands I got the Gatling I'm looking for the guy that sent me to say hi to Satan Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry I turn 'Mr. Rogers Neighborhood' topsy turvy Foes and enemies meaning the same in the dictionary This ain't Pictionary, all you see is the cemetery Bodies, from World War I and II is there You don't want a third war that's nuclear warfare So Big Pun, count the stacks, make it fast Illegal money turns legal now we runnin' a laundromat Your hunchbacked and wack rap is packed in your backpack Your better off in D.C. with the mayor smoking crack Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb threat Run out of the building or get blast in your guess Tec for tec, or we can go text for text, oh I forgot, you don't read, so take this hole in your chest, blaow Hide the blood, give you the gun, run and hide So when the DT shows up He thought it was a suicide Suicide, it's a suicide Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero I'm selling perico Yo what's the dilly yo? I'm uptown making moves just like Castro