Luyện nghe bài hát G.a.m.e.

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[19 instrumental to open]

Game]
Live now, die later, flood or clock the shit out of
Got niggaz tryin to "Kiss the Game Goodbye" Jada
Get your shit pushed back Jada's CD
I'll put your brains on Kenwood TV
So you can see hell in 3D, it's there dog
And the Game behind the is a nightmare dog
If pussy, I might share it dog, beef I'm right here dog
I'm on the block, white Nike on
check, Coogi sweat, they wanna know
if on the truck, give me coochie yet
But I come in the new GS with two, three tecs
Got niggaz Shakin like the new G. Dep
Tryin to read my whole script, but ain't seen the yet
Better have that glock tonight
I'm comin through with Noble, and we, gon', make, it
A bust tonight

2X: The Game]
Getting American Easy, all I know
The Gangsta All Envy, all my dough
It's a West knot, watch, let it bang out
range out, for all the gangsta hangouts

[The
your tips, polish your gators, we like odds in Vegas
You can't ball? Then it's probably the
breathe then it's probably the Desert, if you a gangsta or not
I a fuck dog, bullets is hot
And every nigga gon' cry he hit, the more pain
the more blood drain, he ain't shit
And your niggaz ain't gon' for shit, they know
if they came through in the X-5 is hit
Red rag or blue rag, die for this
The Game the all these niggaz on that "Cali Love" shit
Compton get grimy too, pull you out of that 6
Fuck you up one time'll do
And I dare y'all to on the 'Shaw, and King Boulevard
Comin hard, Doogie Howser pullin out your jaw
Turn your round trip into a one-way
You can visit, but you can not lie and it

[Young
Aiyyo, we left a stain on your block, you came a cop
Pointin fingers at niggaz, that kept shit hot
Next to 'Pac, I'm the thang out, homey we can bang out
Outlaw air it out, box 'em in, it out
Learn about your and we right there
Me and have you left right there
N-O-B-L-E,
We bubble with ease, and I my cheese
I got niggaz out in Compton that'll yo' ass
I got out in Jersey, that'll hide yo' ass
for a long time if you ever fuckin with
It's a line dog between the real and the fraud
We killin your squad, my homeboy in the yard
You the type of standin next to the God
The is deep, you motherfuckers ain't the streets
Young Noble and the homey Game heat, c'mon