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
way you go against me, you still gon' die
I got macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef
You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be

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

Nastradamus 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 y'all what told me
I got you need, 19, 5 a key

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

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

too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
'Cause we gonna 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
staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three
Next to Ron Artest and
Yo, I woulda went pro too, then I let them slow me

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

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

It's Con Ed style, real twisted, I disappear on some Blair Witch
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, play your part

too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
'Cause then we 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 arms, pimp your moms like I'm Magic Don Juan
From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the
We smoke that, our minks on the coat rack

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

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

Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin'
You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't alike
50 Cent Bravehearted, we ride to the grave depart us
You fake niggas imitate what I started, 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, niggas better we never hit rock
then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, us the Ro'