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big pun - caribbean connection lyrics
[intro: wyclef jean]
warning!
[verse 1: big pun]
yo, wanna rumble with the pun, huh
-blows raspberry- sh-t on the whole industry
who puff more owls than pun? pile on more styles than pun?
who the only one with over a thousand guns?
running up in n-ggas cribs like i paid the bill
make you squeal the combination to the safe for wealth
i lace your grill with the firestarter
hit your wife with the sawed off in the shower, powers i’ve gotta
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
n-ggas is cannibals and the ghetto’s the jungle
where you either bet all your bundles or struggle on the simple and humble
my n-ggas’ll rumble with any man for a benny fran’
try to imagine what they can fathom for twenty grand
n-ggas’ll slice you and dice you into a thousand pieces
we pound out weak sh-t into the ground uptown
up in the boogie down we just wallow in jean, pile on the green
surrounded in green like flowers in spring
but 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 rolling lovely and you feel worse
want my money, let your steel burst
’cause i’d rather see you in h-ll first
[chorus: wyclef jean and big pun]
mucho trabajo poquito dinero
i’m selling perico
yo what’s the deally yo
i’m uptown making moves just like castro
mucho trabajo (yo yo yo) poquito dinero
i’m selling perico
yo what’s the deally yo
huh, i’m uptown making moves just like castro
[verse 2: wyclef jean]
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 waiting to see if i break
like your first time in jail when you got f-cked 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’ll 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. roger’s 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 running a laundromat
your hunchbacked and wack rap is packed in your backpack
your better off in d.c. with the mayor smoking crack
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…
[chorus: wyclef jean and big pun]
mucho trabajo poquito dinero
i’m selling perico
yo what’s the deally yo
uh, i’m uptown making moves just like castro
mucho trabajo poquito dinero
i’m selling perico
yo what’s the deally yo
uh, i’m uptown making moves just like castro
mucho trabajo poquito dinero
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