Caribbean Connection (feat. Wyclef Jean)

Warning!

Yo, wanna rumble with the Pun, huh?

Shit on the whole industry

Yo, who puff more Owls than Pun?

Pile more styles than Pun?

Who the only one with over a thousand guns?

Runnin' up in **** 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 in 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 oddessey type, qualities allow me to poli' with animals

**** is cannibals and the ghetto's a jungle where you either bet all your bundles or struggle on the simple and humble

My ****'ll rumble with any man for a Benny Fran'

Try to imagine what they can fathom for twenty grand

****'ll slice you and dice you into a thousand pieces and pound out that weak shit into the ground

Uptown, up in the Boogie Down, just swallow the team, pile the green

Surrounded in green like flowers in Spring, for now I'm a King, so it's more than money

All the honeys used to call my 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 sellin' Perrico

Yo, what's the deally, yo?

I'm uptown makin' moves just like Castro

Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero

I'm sellin' Perrico

Yo, what's the deally, yo?

I'm uptown makin' 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 lookin' for the guy that sent me to say hi to Satan (Uh-huh)

Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry

I turn Mr. Rogers neighborhood topsy turvy

Foes and enemies meanin' 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 DC with the mayor smokin' crack

Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb threat

Run out of the buildin' 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, blaw

Hide the blood, give you the gun, run and hide, so when the DT shows up, he thought it was a suicide

Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero

I'm sellin' Perrico

Yo, what's the deally, yo?

I'm uptown makin' moves just like Castro

Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero

I'm sellin' Perrico

Yo, what's the deally, yo?

I'm uptown makin' moves just like Castro

Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero