Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in area
About to cause mass

a blunt, I take out my fronts
Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a
You couldn't me in the streets without a ton of reefer
like Malcolm X catching the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too much flavor, I'm
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, another dose and you might be
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that excite the
And ain't' a thing gonna change
I'm a perform a show the mic wonder was born the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's

It's

It's like that, you know like 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 never calmly on a track
I set it off wit my own
I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I 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 to never run it
Wit more than a baby in a mother's stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid,
This is til the microphone dies
Back in '83, I was an MC
But I was too to grab the mic's in the park and
my little raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the man
I rap in front of more niggas than in the slave
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I load clips
I got to it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style like a fagot
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a and that's no question, yo
These are the of the man, you can't near it, understand
in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
In my place wit the bass and
rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And time I rhyme, I be fouled whenever I freestyle
I see trial say I'm wow
I a rhyme biter's rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, the real rap comes at halftime

It's

I got it on, even flip 'em on this song
Every afternoon, I half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm like when the narcs hit
Word to Marcus or heartless Sparkton
'cause when I blast the herb, that's my
I be slaying fast, doing 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 to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And biters can't 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 Phillie change, more cash for that
This goes out to Manhattan, the island of
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, enough
will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

It's still