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 light up in the sky, like the Statue of Liberty
A tattooed celebrity, but I keep the
That go blacka, I push through your memory
of my enemies, wanna 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, dropped
With the paint job, that look a icy pop
Your jock, she like Rasaq
Thick hips, with the top
You find me propped, in a grimy spot
as the nine is popped, your mind is blocked
Your body start tripping, trying to the clot
Mommy start tripping, to find the watch
She wanna find my
But all she get is nut, right behind my
stop, it's Rasaq
When she see the O's and commas,
Coming out pajamas, you know this mama
And I'm like a camera, on her
By the end of the night, be poking on her
Cause I she wanna
Niggas think they this man

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

Let me give you a couple reasons, we running the
It's Koopa Chamillionaire, and mayn
How I spit a flame with a name, like that name
I spit and it's flammable, you can ignite mayn
Tired of these industry cats, and to be raps
First they pretend to be this, pretend to be that
No you lying falsifying, can we see facts
Your raps would be phat, as soon as you to be wack
That, would be a closer to the truth
puke if your group, get any closer to the booth
It's an oxygen booth, it's suppose to be a roof
Cause the air in my braided hair, when I'm opening the
Rasaq on the dream now, him a winner
Anybody got any for him, I'm finna
Slam your face towards my rim, and the spinner
So you can your friends, you had spinning rims for dinner
Ha-ha, who the is better for
A balling metaphor, or go cheddar for
A Coupe with the yellow doors, instead of the yella's
If hating on me is a hobby, go get a chore
Boy, any nigga that got
you to de-tenetion, and nigga to not mention
Did I mention, you don't want my
you like Bone Crusher, not scared I'm not flinching
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
get it confused, by the name in the cartoon cover
Got paper, than your arm
Just look how the boy flosses, hating boy tosses
His fist your 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 Southside
I slide on the scene, with a mouth of golds
I slide on the block, like I'm off parole
Not Destiny's Child, but me Kelly Rowland
Bright red top, and Perelli's is rolling
And my fellas is holding, the he toting
So fellas, please provoke him
Dolla bills folding, chicks wanna some
Homegirl better stop fronting, and show
For all my niggas,
Two around the club, like you throwed from dro
Oh, them haters don't trouble me
Cause this year, I'm bout to double the do'
All the girls loving him thoed, loving the flow
the do' they come in and go, oh they loving us so
Maybe that tattoo's, maybe
Cause we braided up black dudes, maybe we rap too
And flash jewels, where shades the light coming at you
Ice so cold, I got the flu nigga
Why you think, they call me
I got Rasaq's on the chain, and on the watch
Coming down the block, niggas think the cops
the roof turn red, and blue on the top
When point the lead 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, it's 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 and back
I homegirl, around the curb and back
nigga, the birds is back
And I ain't talking bout herb or crack, I'm talking bout yaps
But I still, love thick girls
Hair in a bun, up in a thick swirl
Stay down me, we bout to get rich girl
If you picture fit girl, I really miss girl
I leave her on the curb, with her lip
Her friend wouldn't her up, now she interrupt
bout to fuck her up, pick her up
The seats really her butt, she think I love her butt
I'm too gutter, for
I'm in a counting butter up, man

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