Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

Check me out y'all, Nas in your area
About to cause hysteria

Before a blunt, I out my fronts
Then I to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets a ton of reefer
That's like Malcolm X catching the Jungle
King poetic, too much flavor, I'm
Atlanta and braver, I pull a number like a
I'm am ace when I face the bass
40 side is the that is giving me grace
Now wait, dose and you might be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I chains that 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 know you got the mad fat when you rhyme, it's halftime

It's

It's like that, you it's like that
I got at him, now you never get the mic
When I attack, there ain't an army that strike back
So I react never calmly on a track
I set it off wit my own
Cause I'm as ill as a who kills for phone time
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 stomach
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 little raps 'cause I thought wouldn't understand
And now in jam I'm the fucking man
I rap in front of more niggas in the slave ships
I to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I load glock clips
I got to have it, I miss Mr
Versatile, my switches 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 all that
And next time I rhyme, I be fouled I freestyle
I see niggas say I'm wow
I hate a rhyme rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the rap comes at halftime

halftime

I got it on, even flip 'em on this song
Every afternoon, I kick half the
And in the darkness, I'm heartless when the narcs hit
Word to Marcus or heartless Sparkton
'cause I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slaying them fast, this, that in the third
But chill, past the entree and 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 biters can't near
And yo, go to hell to the foul cop who Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I feed
That's extra Phillie change, more cash for that
This out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Boogie Down, props, enough clout
will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

It's still