50 Cent_Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and Nature歌词 Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and NatureLRC歌词
歌手：50 Cent
专辑：《》
作词：
发行时间：
歌曲名称:Too Hot ft. Nas and Nature
歌手:50 Cent
You can be a ridah 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 **** 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, frontin’ in somethin’ 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
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
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
Breathin’ deeper when I’m creeping up
Ya’ll need to **** with the tightest, I stick niggas
Ensevilitus, leavin’ 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 Ed style, real twisted,
I disappear on some Blair Witch shit
Comin’ 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
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
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 nothin’ 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 awkward to you
Porsche maneuvers thru the city like New York sewers
Stinkin’ up the air, Central Park, horse manure
Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions
22 inch dick when I’m pimpin’
Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin’ like
You knowin’ 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
歌手:50 Cent
You can be a ridah 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 **** 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, frontin’ in somethin’ 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
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
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
Breathin’ deeper when I’m creeping up
Ya’ll need to **** with the tightest, I stick niggas
Ensevilitus, leavin’ 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 Ed style, real twisted,
I disappear on some Blair Witch shit
Comin’ 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
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
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 nothin’ 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 awkward to you
Porsche maneuvers thru the city like New York sewers
Stinkin’ up the air, Central Park, horse manure
Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions
22 inch dick when I’m pimpin’
Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin’ like
You knowin’ 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
[ti:Too Hot ft. Nas and Nature]
[ar:50 Cent]
[00:22.23]You can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide
[00:24.64]Either way you go against me, you still gon die
[00:27.59]I got four macs, a few nines, I’m ready for beef
[00:29.08]You wanna talk, it ain’t about money, then let it be brief
[00:32.17]I need a drop for when it’s a hot, a hummer for when it’s cold
[00:34.53]An ill attorney’s in my corner when these fake niggas fold
[00:37.05]The shit I kick **** with niggas mentally,
[00:39.34]makes them wanna mention me
[00:41.25]And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary
[00:43.62]Nastradamus predicted 50’s the future, that’s a fact money
[00:46.05]I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money
[00:49.03]I’m a tell ya’ll what Papi told me
[00:49.94]I got what you need, 19,5 a key
[00:52.24]I stay catching a stunt, frontin’ in somethin’ mean
[00:54.93]And I’ll clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
[00:57.26]Run up on them all with the same problem solver
[00:59.86]Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver. What!
[02:13.17][02:04.15][01:12.50][01:02.59]Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
[02:17.17][02:07.34][01:16.22][01:06.39]Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
[02:20.52][02:10.24][01:19.63][01:09.18]Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
[01:22.62]Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo
[01:23.92]I’m like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain’t no beef
[01:25.56]You’re staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three
[01:28.19]Next to Ron Artest and Kobe
[01:30.24]Yo I woulda went pro too, then I let them phillies slow me
[01:33.17]I’m like a black man’s asthma, seeking a pump
[01:35.75]Breathin’ deeper when I’m creeping up
[01:37.64]Ya’ll need to **** with the tightest, I stick niggas
[01:40.11]Ensevilitus, leavin’ whole families in silence
[01:42.81]My virus is obvious, past on to most rap fiends
[01:45.93]Un cured, ain’t no vaccine
[01:48.09]Last seen at the automatic teller machine, maxing out
[01:51.00]Or in the studio booth, blacking out
[01:53.13]It’s Con Ed style, real twisted,
[01:55.68]I disappear on some Blair Witch shit
[01:57.21]Comin’ back I’m rich kid
[01:58.72]Either or, you can’t stop me with my feet in the door
[02:01.14]Or walk away from the street or the morgue, play your part nigga.
[02:23.92]I disturb niggas and white boys, with five pointed stars
[02:26.78]Tatted on they arms, pimp your moms, like I’m Magic Don Juan
[02:29.40]From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong
[02:31.86]We smoke that, leave our minks on the coat rack
[02:34.08]Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the nine is on me
[02:36.86]Feds search the God, but nothin’ they find on me
[02:39.42]When I rap don’t wait to clap applaud sooner
[02:41.86]Unless you hate a nigga like George Bush Jr., I bring awkward to you
[02:43.85]Porsche maneuvers thru the city like New York sewers
[02:47.34]Stinkin’ up the air, Central Park, horse manure
[02:50.41]Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions
[02:52.46]22 inch dick when I’m pimpin’
[02:54.90]Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin’ like
[02:57.88]You knowin’ my arithmetic, but we don’t sound alike
[03:00.41]50 Cent with Braveheart-ed, we ride to the grave depart us
[03:03.58]You fake niggas imitate what I started, let’s go
[03:0***4]
[ar:50 Cent]
[00:22.23]You can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide
[00:24.64]Either way you go against me, you still gon die
[00:27.59]I got four macs, a few nines, I’m ready for beef
[00:29.08]You wanna talk, it ain’t about money, then let it be brief
[00:32.17]I need a drop for when it’s a hot, a hummer for when it’s cold
[00:34.53]An ill attorney’s in my corner when these fake niggas fold
[00:37.05]The shit I kick **** with niggas mentally,
[00:39.34]makes them wanna mention me
[00:41.25]And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary
[00:43.62]Nastradamus predicted 50’s the future, that’s a fact money
[00:46.05]I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money
[00:49.03]I’m a tell ya’ll what Papi told me
[00:49.94]I got what you need, 19,5 a key
[00:52.24]I stay catching a stunt, frontin’ in somethin’ mean
[00:54.93]And I’ll clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
[00:57.26]Run up on them all with the same problem solver
[00:59.86]Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver. What!
[02:13.17][02:04.15][01:12.50][01:02.59]Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
[02:17.17][02:07.34][01:16.22][01:06.39]Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
[02:20.52][02:10.24][01:19.63][01:09.18]Screamin’ get the **** on the floor, give us the Ro’
[01:22.62]Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo
[01:23.92]I’m like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain’t no beef
[01:25.56]You’re staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three
[01:28.19]Next to Ron Artest and Kobe
[01:30.24]Yo I woulda went pro too, then I let them phillies slow me
[01:33.17]I’m like a black man’s asthma, seeking a pump
[01:35.75]Breathin’ deeper when I’m creeping up
[01:37.64]Ya’ll need to **** with the tightest, I stick niggas
[01:40.11]Ensevilitus, leavin’ whole families in silence
[01:42.81]My virus is obvious, past on to most rap fiends
[01:45.93]Un cured, ain’t no vaccine
[01:48.09]Last seen at the automatic teller machine, maxing out
[01:51.00]Or in the studio booth, blacking out
[01:53.13]It’s Con Ed style, real twisted,
[01:55.68]I disappear on some Blair Witch shit
[01:57.21]Comin’ back I’m rich kid
[01:58.72]Either or, you can’t stop me with my feet in the door
[02:01.14]Or walk away from the street or the morgue, play your part nigga.
[02:23.92]I disturb niggas and white boys, with five pointed stars
[02:26.78]Tatted on they arms, pimp your moms, like I’m Magic Don Juan
[02:29.40]From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong
[02:31.86]We smoke that, leave our minks on the coat rack
[02:34.08]Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the nine is on me
[02:36.86]Feds search the God, but nothin’ they find on me
[02:39.42]When I rap don’t wait to clap applaud sooner
[02:41.86]Unless you hate a nigga like George Bush Jr., I bring awkward to you
[02:43.85]Porsche maneuvers thru the city like New York sewers
[02:47.34]Stinkin’ up the air, Central Park, horse manure
[02:50.41]Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions
[02:52.46]22 inch dick when I’m pimpin’
[02:54.90]Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin’ like
[02:57.88]You knowin’ my arithmetic, but we don’t sound alike
[03:00.41]50 Cent with Braveheart-ed, we ride to the grave depart us
[03:03.58]You fake niggas imitate what I started, let’s go
[03:0***4]
本文标题：50 Cent_Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and Nature歌词 Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and NatureLRC歌词 网址：https://www.265e.com/tab/506579.html
《50 Cent_Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and Nature歌词 Cent Too Hot ft. Nas and NatureLRC歌词》相关曲谱及歌词来源于互联网或网友上传分享，仅供个人学习、交流、欣赏使用，版权归属原作者所有，如有侵犯到您的权益，请联系我们，我们会及时处理。
本站致力于收集、整理、分享对用户有用的专业歌谱，如果您发现本站有错误内容、不当内容，请联系告知我们，我们将在收到后第一时间删除。
