Luyện nghe bài hát Too Hot

Niggas bit off Nas
it, you bit it
Niggas bit off Nas shit,
Niggas, bit off, Nas
if, you bit it, bit it

bit off Nas shit
it, you bit it
Niggas bit off Nas shit,
Niggas, bit off, Nas
if, you bit it, bit it

You can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and
way you go against me, you still gon' die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for
You wanna talk, it about money, then let it be brief

I a drop for when it's a hot, a Hummer for when it's cold
An ill in my corner when these fake niggas fold
The shit I kick, fuck niggas mentally
Makes wanna mention me
And see me doing a century in the penitentiary

predicted 50's the future, that's a fact money
I run up on your workers the mac, like where that pack money
I'm a tell what Papi told me
I got you need, 19, 5 a key

I stay a stunt, frontin' in somethin' mean
And I'll clap any for the right amount of cream
Run up on them all with the same solver
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, eight revolver

Projects too hot, niggas better hope we hit rock
'Cause we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, us the Ro'

Projects too hot, niggas better we never hit rock
'Cause we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin' get the on the floor, give us the Ro'

Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo,
I'm Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no beef
You're staring, a ticket holder that in row three
Next to Ron and Kobe
Yo, I woulda went pro too, then I let them phillies me

I'm like a man's asthma, seeking a pump
Breathin' deeper when I'm up
Y'all to fuck with the tightest, I stick niggas
Ensevilitus, whole families in silence

My virus is obvious, past on to most rap
Un cured, ain't no
Last seen at the teller machine, maxing out
Or in the studio booth, out

It's Con Ed style, real twisted, I disappear on some Blair shit
Comin' I'm rich kid
Either or you can't stop me my feet in the door
Or walk away from the street or the morgue, play your nigga

Projects too hot, niggas hope we never hit rock
then we gonna run up in your spot

bit off Nas
it, you bit it
Tell niggas somethin', God

What, yo?
I disturb niggas and white boys with five stars
Tattoed on they arms, pimp moms like I'm Magic Don Juan
Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong
We that, leave our minks on the coat rack

Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the is on me
Feds search the God, but nothin' find on me
When I rap don't wait to clap sooner
Unless you hate a nigga like George Bush Jr., I awkward to you

Porsche maneuvers through the city New York sewers
Stinkin' up the air, Central Park, horse
Rims is 22 inches, Benz
22 inch dick I'm pimpin'

Impotent you niggas get me sick, be soundin' like
You my arithmetic, but we don't sound alike
50 Cent with Bravehearted, we ride to the depart us
You fake niggas imitate what I started, go

bit off Nas shit
it, you bit it
Niggas bit off Nas shit,
Niggas, bit off, Nas
if, you bit it, bit it

Projects too hot, better hope we never hit rock
'Cause we gonna run up in your spot
get the fuck on the floor, give us the Ro'