Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your
About to mass hysteria

Before a blunt, I out my fronts
I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of
That's like Malcolm X the Jungle Fever
poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I pull a number like a
Cause I'm am ace when I face the
40 side is the that is giving me grace
Now wait, dose and you might be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that the feds
And ain't' a damn gonna change
I'm a perform a strange show the mic was born the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid you rhyme, it's halftime

halftime

It's like that, you know it's that
I got at him, now you get the mic back
When I attack, there an army that could strike back
So I react calmly on a hype track
I set it off wit my own
Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone
I'm max cassettes, I flex like sex
In your stereo sets, Nas will wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is and strive
I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I drop jewels, wear jewels to run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid,
This is til the microphone dies
in '83, I was an MC sparking
But I was too to grab the mic's in the park and
Kick my little raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't
And now in jam I'm the fucking man
I rap in front of more than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I load clips
I got to it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style switches like a
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a and that's no question, yo
are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand
'cause in the streets, I'm well like the number man
In my place wit the bass and
rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme, I be fouled I freestyle
I see trial say I'm wow
I hate a rhyme biter's
tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at halftime

It's

I got it going on, even flip 'em on song
Every afternoon, I half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the hit
Word to Garvey or heartless Sparkton
'cause when I blast the herb, that's my
I be slaying them fast, this, that in the third
But chill, past the and let's lay
I bag bitches up at Jay and hit a matinee
Putting on 5-0
Cause it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And can't come near
And yo, go to hell to the cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra I can't feed
That's extra change, more cash for that weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the of Staten
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Boogie Down, props, enough clout
will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

It's still