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 macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef
You wanna talk, it ain't about money, let it be brief

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

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

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

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

too hot, niggas better hope we never 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 Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no beef
You're staring, a ticket holder that in row three
to Ron Artest and Kobe
Yo, I woulda pro too, then I let them phillies slow me

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

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

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

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 these somethin', God

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

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

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

you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin' like
You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't sound
50 Cent with Bravehearted, we ride to the grave us
You fake niggas imitate I started, let's go

Niggas bit off Nas
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 then we run up in your spot
Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, us the Ro'