Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

I don't around I'll break you down in the hours of h
All these l.a times motherfucka's keepin the
No to pull strings things still get done
To have you yellin at the top of yo
So xzibit never wit a false tounge
Slid off a handgun
Tryin to build an to pass to my grandson
I never like to talk business over the
So either have for the game or leave it alone
action speak louder than words
And pussy move faster than
So I gotta keep a
On the you slip, and you might catch a hot one
stay low and kick back like a shotgun
I keep it bangin to the end of the
When a rapper think his saggin style is fuckin mine, it's divine
'cause my family is than bricks
Anything to keep it movin 'cause it's to hit

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

Verse 2: ras
Men must be tramp or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, delegate power, nigga touch
no one and die dumping
Drained ya battery you barely like teddy ruxpin
See that's wassup, nigga I don't give a
Say some shit so nasty, it'll make kim blush
As if, a 98 bentley didn't me
To lay over this empty
But my conscience wouldn't permit me
I'm one-third black man, jackie chan
One-third sand, shiftin the surface of the land
Golden warrior let my nuts hang like niggas in nooses
While you groupies all your loochie
I'm known for hoochies in suskis
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Loved and feared, yet loved
The full time titan fighting three million over night
So keep your, hand out your rectum you can't stop shit
Don't shit, studio hustlers
Claimin' got more keys than a locksmith
What of the game is this
Bonus round, me the mic, the money
The in that order, the mortar over populated
Get fucked and copulated
And all you on some you owe me an apology shit
Can suck yo 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 contrete streets
Sporting cleets, nothing sweet
(xzibit)
I'm making rappers get shit together
Still smokin, still drinkin, maintain clear thinkin
is the weekend, mashin thru in a lincoln
And style so sick, the whole car stinking