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

Niggas bit off Nas
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
Either way you go against me, you still die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm for beef
You talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief

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

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

I stay catching a stunt, frontin' in somethin'
And I'll any nigga for the right amount of cream
Run up on them all with the problem solver
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight

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

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

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

I'm a black man's asthma, seeking a pump
Breathin' when I'm creeping up
Y'all need to fuck with the tightest, I stick
Ensevilitus, leavin' families in silence

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

It's Con Ed style, real twisted, I on some Blair Witch shit
back 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, your part nigga

Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit
'Cause we gonna run up in your spot

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

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

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

Porsche through the city like New York sewers
Stinkin' up the air, Central Park, manure
is 22 inches, Benz suspensions
22 inch when I'm pimpin'

Impotent you niggas get me sick, be soundin' like
You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't sound
50 Cent with Bravehearted, we to the grave depart us
You fake niggas what I started, let's 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, niggas better hope we hit rock
then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin' get the on the floor, give us the Ro'