Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime

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

Before a blunt, I take out my
Then I to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You catch 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
I'm am ace when I face the bass
40 side is the place that is 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 the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid you rhyme, it's halftime

It's

It's like that, you know it's that
I got at him, now you get the mic back
When I attack, there ain't an army that could 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 for phone 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
When I was young, I was a fan of the 5
I drop jewels, wear jewels to run it
Wit more kicks than a in a mother's stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid,
is exercise til the microphone dies
Back in '83, I was an MC
But I was too scared to grab the mic's in the and
Kick my little raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't
And now in every jam I'm the man
I rap in front of more niggas in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I glock clips
I got to it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style switches a fagot
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a and that's no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you near it, understand
in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
In my place wit the 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 song
afternoon, I kick half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the hit
Word to Marcus or heartless Sparkton
'cause when I blast the herb, my word
I be slaying them fast, doing this, in the third
But chill, past the entree and 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 come
And yo, go to hell to the cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, need an extra mouth I can't feed
That's extra Phillie change, cash for that weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the of Staten
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Down, enough props, enough clout
I'll will, in peace, yo, I'm out

It's still