Luyện nghe bài hát Ccc Runnin The Game

(*talking*)
Rasaq on the block yeah
Uh, it's the boy Rasaq, Color Click-clack
go mayn, uh, uh

I got them black dudes me
Cause my hand light up in the sky, like the of Liberty
A tattooed celebrity, but I keep the
That go blacka, I that through your memory
Half of my enemies, see
Me and my bro shot down, like a family of
Ask who as as me, it's the C.C.C.
You should see, how happy yella's be
When they see the car, nicely
With the paint job, that look a icy pop
Your wifey jock, she Rasaq
Thick hips, with the top
You could me propped, in a grimy spot
Soon as the nine is popped, your mind is
Your start tripping, trying to find the clot
Mommy start tripping, to find the watch
She wanna find my
But all she get is nut, behind my crotch
stop, it's Rasaq
When she see the O's and commas,
Coming out those pajamas, you know mama
And I'm a camera, focused on her
By the end of the night, be poking on her
Cause I she wanna
Niggas they running this man

Don't get me started, know who the hardest
your thang, but regardless baby
Color Click, is the name
That's running the
Get it in your nigga, Color Change
Mmmmmm, the game
Get it in your nigga, Color Change
Mmmmmm, we running the

Let me give you a couple reasons, we the game
Koopa Chamillionaire, and Koopa mayn
How couldn't I spit a with a name, like that name
I spit and it's flammable, you can ignite that
Tired of industry cats, and pretend to be raps
First they pretend to be this, pretend to be that
No you lying falsifying, can we see facts
Your raps be phat, as soon as you pretend to be wack
That, would be a closer to the truth
I'ma puke if group, get any closer to the booth
It's an booth, where it's suppose to be a roof
Cause the air in my hair, when I'm opening the Coupe
on the dream team now, him a winner
Anybody got any for him, I'm finna
Slam your towards my rim, and spin the spinner
So you can tell your friends, you had spinning rims for
Ha-ha, who the heck is for
A metaphor, or go getting cheddar for
A Coupe with the yellow doors, of the yella's drawers
If hating on me is a hobby, go get a chore
Boy, any nigga got tension
Send you to de-tenetion, and nigga to not
Did I mention, you want my attention
Crush you like Bone Crusher, not scared I'm not
Let's see the ambulance, do for you
Well if y'all two brothers, rap is two footer
Little kids naw lady, every too gutter
Don't get it confused, by the name in the cartoon
Got paper, than your arm
Just look how the boy flosses, that boy tosses
His fist towards face, to your jaw
It's as Paul's chorus, Koopa can just haunt it

This is for the down South Dirty, vogues
My Northside niggas, my whoa
I slide on the scene, a mouth full of golds
I slide on the block, like I'm fresh off
Not Destiny's Child, but me Kelly Rowland
red top, and them Perelli's is rolling
And my fellas is holding, the metal he
So fellas, please don't him
Dolla bills folding, chicks wanna hold
Homegirl better fronting, and show something
For all my niggas,
Two step around the club, like you from dro
Oh, them haters trouble me though
Cause this year, I'm bout to double the do'
All the girls loving him thoed, they the flow
Open the do' come in and go, oh they loving us so
Maybe cause that tattoo's,
we braided up black dudes, maybe cause we rap too
And flash jewels, where when the light coming at you
Ice so cold, I got the flu nigga
Why you think, they me Rasaq
I got Rasaq's on the chain, and on the watch
Coming the block, niggas think it's the cops
Cause the roof red, and blue on the top
When niggas point the at you, it goes pop
Acres Home's dead at you, we don't
Houston a hot town, we got it on lock
Before the c.d. drop, already on the block
And girls, already on the jock
And them rims trilling on shocks, niggas mouths drop
Looking shocked, my raps my hooks is hot
I'm weather I spit, hooks or not
I took the block, around the world and
I homegirl, around the curb and back
Yeah nigga, the is back
And I ain't talking bout herb or crack, I'm talking Hershey yaps
But I still, love them thick
Hair in a bun, rocked up in a thick
Stay with me, we bout to get rich girl
If you picture fit girl, damn I miss girl
I leave her on the curb, her lip curled
Her friend wouldn't shut her up, now she
Seat bout to fuck her up, her up
The seats really love her butt, she I love her butt
I'm too gutter, for
I'm in a Coupe counting up, man

(*talking*)
Rasaq on the nigga, uh
Ghetto Sta-uh, Ghetto niggas
Ok, y'all wanna play, South gutter