Too Hot
(专辑: Guess Who's Back? - 2002)
Niggas bit off Nas shit Admit it, you bit it Niggas bit off Nas shit, niggas, niggas, bit off, Nas shit Admit if, you bit it, bit it [50 Cent:] You can be a
rider and ride, or a
coward and hide Either way you go against me, you still gon' die I
got four macs, a
few nines, I'm ready for beef You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief I
need a
drop for when it's a
hot, a
Hummer for when it's cold An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake niggas fold The
shit I
kick fuck with niggas mentally, makes them wanna mention me And see me doing a
quarter century in the
penitentiary Nastradamus predicted 50's the
future, that's a
fact money I
run up on your workers with the
mac, like where that pack money I'm a
tell ya'll what Papi told me I
got what you need, 19,5 a
key I
stay catching a
stunt, fronting in something mean And I'll clap any nigga for the
right amount of cream Run up on them all with the
same problem solver Beat up ass, tape on the
handle, trey eight revolver. What! Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screaming get the
fuck on the
floor, give us the
raw Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screaming get the
fuck on the
floor, give us the
raw [Nature:] Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo I'm like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no beef You're staring, a
ticket holder that sits in row three Next to Ron Artest and Kobe Yo I
woulda went pro too, then I
let them phillies slow me I'm like a
black man's asthma, seeking a
pump Breathing deeper when I'm creeping up Ya'll need to fuck with the
tightest, I
stick niggas Encephalitis leaving whole families in silence My virus is obvious, past on to most rap fiends Un cured, ain't no vaccine Last seen at the
automatic teller machine, maxing out Or in the
studio booth, blacking out It's Con Air style, real twisted, I
disappear on some Blair Witch shit Coming back I'm rich kid Either or, you can't stop me with my feet in the
door Or walk away from the
street or the
morgue, play your part nigga Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screaming get the
fuck on the
floor, give us the
raw Niggas bit off Nas Admit it, you bit it Tell these niggas something God [Nas:] What, yo I
disturb niggas and white boys, with five pointed stars Tatted on they arms, pimp your moms, like I'm Magic Don Juan From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the
bong We smoke that, leave our minks on the
coat rack Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the
nine is on me Feds search the
God, but nothing they find on me When I
rap don't wait to clap applaud sooner Unless you hate a
nigga like George Bush Jr., I
bring war quick to you Porsche maneuvers through the
city like New York sewers Stinking up the
air, Central Park, horse manure Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions 22-inch dick when I'm pimping Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be sounding like You knowing my arithmetic, but we don't sound alike 50 Cent with Braveheart-ed, we ride to the
grave depart us You fake niggas imitate what I
started, let's go Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screaming get the
fuck on the
floor, give us the
raw Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screaming get the
fuck on the
floor, give us the
raw