Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

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

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

2: ras kass
Men must be tramp or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, delegate power, nigga touch
Trust no one and die
ya battery you barely talking like teddy ruxpin
See that's wassup, nigga I give a fuck
Say some shit so nasty, make little kim blush
As if, a 98 bentley didn't me
To lay bullshit this empty
But consequently my conscience wouldn't me
I'm one-third black man, jackie chan
One-third sand, shiftin across the surface of the
Golden state warrior let my hang like niggas in nooses
While you givin groupies all your
I'm for fucking hoochies in suskis
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Loved and feared, severe yet
The full time titan three million over night thugs
So keep your, hand out your rectum 'cause you can't shit
rock shit, studio hustlers
Claimin' got more keys than a locksmith
What of the game is this
Bonus round, give me the mic, the
The pussy in that order, the over populated
Get fucked and orally
And all you chumps on some you owe me an shit
Can suck yo out my dick

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