Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

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 me in the streets without a ton of reefer
That's like Malcolm X the Jungle Fever
poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I a number like a pager
Cause I'm am ace when I the bass
40 side is the that is giving me grace
Now wait, another dose and you be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains excite the feds
And ain't' a damn thing gonna
I'm a perform a strange show the mic wonder was born the
Nas, why did you do it
You you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

It's

It's like that, you know it's that
I got at him, now you never get the mic
When I attack, ain't 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 time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex sex
In your stereo sets, Nas will catch
I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and
I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I drop jewels, wear to never run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's
Nas has to rise, kid, surprise
This is exercise til the microphone
in '83, I was an MC sparking
But I was too to grab the mic's in the park and
Kick my raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand
And now in jam I'm the fucking man
I rap in of more niggas than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I glock clips
I got to have it, I miss Mr
Versatile, my style like a fagot
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 wit the bass and format
Explore rap and tell me Nas ain't all
And next I rhyme, I be fouled whenever I freestyle
I see niggas 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 this
Every afternoon, I half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the hit
Word to Marcus Garvey or Sparkton
when I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slaying them fast, this, that in the third
But chill, the entree and let's lay
I bag up at John Jay and hit a matinee
hits on 5-0
Cause when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the
And biters come near
And yo, go to hell to the cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't an extra mouth I can't feed
That's extra change, more cash for that weed
This out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, enough
I'll will, in peace, yo, I'm out

It's halftime