Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in area
About to mass hysteria

Before a blunt, I out my fronts
Then I to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets a ton of reefer
That's like X catching the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too flavor, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I pull a number a pager
I'm am ace when I face the bass
40 side is the place that is me grace
Now wait, another dose and you might be
And I'm a Nike head, I chains that excite the feds
And ain't' a damn gonna change
I'm a perform a strange show the mic wonder was the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's

halftime

It's like that, you it's like that
I got at him, now you never get the mic
When I attack, there an army that could strike back
So I never calmly on a hype track
I set it off wit my own
I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex sex
In your stereo sets, Nas catch wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is and strive
When I was young, I was a fan of the 5
I jewels, wear jewels to never run it
Wit kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach
Nas has to rise, kid, surprise
This is exercise til the microphone
Back in '83, I was an MC
But I was too to grab the mic's in the park and
Kick my little raps 'cause I niggas wouldn't understand
And now in jam I'm the fucking man
I rap in front of more niggas than in the slave
I used to C.H.I.P.S, now I load glock clips
I got to it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style like a fagot
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a professional and no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you can't it, understand
'cause in the streets, I'm well like the number man
In my place wit the bass and
rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme, I be whenever I freestyle
I see niggas say I'm wow
I hate a biter's rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at

It's

I got it going on, even flip 'em on song
Every afternoon, I kick the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like the narcs hit
Word to Marcus Garvey or Sparkton
'cause I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slaying them fast, this, that in the third
But chill, past the entree and lay
I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a
Putting on 5-0
Cause when it's my to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And biters come near
And yo, go to to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, need an extra mouth I can't feed
extra Phillie change, more cash for that weed
This out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, Queens is fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, clout
I'll will, in peace, yo, I'm out

still halftime