Too Hot

**** bit off Nas

Admit it

Nas shit, ****, **** bit off

Nas (Admit it, you bit it)

**** bit off Nas

Admit it

Nas shit, ****, **** bit off

Nas (Admit it, you bit it)

Yo, you could 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 hot, a Hummer for when it's cold

An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake **** fold

This shit, I can't fuck with **** mentally

Makes them wanna mention me

And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary

Nostradamus 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'ma tell y'all what Papi told me

I got what you need, nineteen, five, a key

I stay catching a stunt, frontin' in something mean

And I'll clap any **** 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

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

Screaming, get the fuck on the floor and give us the ro'

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

Screaming, get the fuck on the floor and give us the ro'

Aye yo, 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

Y'all need to fuck with the tightest, I'll stick ****

Encephalitis, leaving whole families in silence

My virus is obvious, passed on to most rap fiends

Uncured, 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 a 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, ****

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

Screaming, get the fuck on the floor and give us the ro'

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

(What? Admit it, you bit it)

Yo, I disturb **** and white boys

With five pointed stars tatted on they arms

Pimp your moms, like I'm Magic Don Juans

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 out of 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 ****, like George Bush Jr.

I bring awkward to you

Porsche maneuvers through the city like New York sewers

Stinkin' up the air, Central Park, horse manure

Rims is twenty-two inches, Benz suspensions

Twenty-two inch dick when I'm pimpin'

Impotent, you **** get me sick

Wanna be sounding like you knowin' my arithmetic

But we don't sound alike

50 Cent was brave hearted

We ride till the grave depart us

You fake **** imitate what I started, let's go, let's go

**** bit off Nas

Admit it

Nas shit, ****, **** bit off

Nas (Admit it, you bit it)

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

Screaming, get the fuck on the floor and give us the ro'

The project's too hot, **** better hope we never hit rock

'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot

Screaming, get the fuck on the floor and give us the ro'