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 me, you still gon' die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for
You wanna talk, it ain't money, then let it be brief

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

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

I stay catching a stunt, in somethin' mean
And clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
Run up on them all with the same problem
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey revolver

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

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'

Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo,
I'm like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no
staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three
Next to Ron Artest and
Yo, I woulda pro too, then I let them phillies slow me

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

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

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

Projects too hot, better hope we never hit rock
'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 five pointed
Tattoed on they arms, pimp your moms like I'm Magic Don
Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong
We smoke that, leave our minks on the rack

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

Porsche maneuvers the city like New York sewers
Stinkin' up the air, Park, horse manure
Rims is 22 inches, suspensions
22 inch dick I'm pimpin'

Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be like
You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't alike
50 Cent Bravehearted, we ride 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 hope we never hit rock
then we gonna run up in your spot
get the fuck on the floor, give us the Ro'