Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

I don't fuck around I'll break you down in the of h
All these l.a times keepin the pace
No need to pull things still get done
To have you yellin at the top of yo
So xzibit never speak wit a false
Slid off a handgun
Tryin to an empire to pass to my grandson
I never like to talk over the phone
So either have love for the game or leave it
Plus speak louder than words
And move faster than birds
So I gotta keep a
On the street you slip, and you catch a hot one
Xzibit stay low and kick like a shotgun
I keep it bangin to the end of the
When a think his saggin style is fuckin with mine, it's divine
'cause my family is than bricks
Anything to it movin 'cause it's harder to hit

(ras kass)
Only right I fuck wit you you fuckin' wit mine
it movin to the end of the line
And speak louder than words
And pussy move faster birds
Gotta keep a
(xzibit)
Only right I fuck wit you when you fuckin' wit
Keep it movin to the end of the
And action speak louder than
And pussy faster than birds
Gotta keep a

Verse 2: ras
Men must be either or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, delegate power, nigga touch
Trust no one and die
Drained ya battery you barely talking teddy ruxpin
See wassup, nigga I don't give a fuck
Say some shit so nasty, it'll make kim blush
As if, a 98 bentley tempt me
To lay bullshit this empty
But consequently my conscience permit me
I'm one-third black man, one-third jackie
One-third sand, across the surface of the land
Golden state warrior let my nuts like niggas in nooses
you givin groupies all your loochie
I'm known for fucking hoochies in
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
and feared, severe yet loved
The full time titan fighting three million over night
So keep your, hand out your 'cause you can't stop shit
rock shit, studio hustlers
Claimin' they got keys than a locksmith
What part of the is this
Bonus round, me the mic, the money
The pussy in that order, the over populated
Get fucked and orally
And all you chumps on some you owe me an shit
Can yo apology out my dick

3:
(ras kass)
This is for the black niggas, the yak
The part time strippers,slash full time student,and fifty slippers
I got athletes feet,we run these streets
cleets, ain't nothing sweet
(xzibit)
I'm making get they shit together
Still smokin, still drinkin, still clear thinkin
Everyday is the weekend, mashin thru in a
And style so sick, the whole car start