Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

Uhh, uhh, uhh, go
Uhh, bounce, uhh,
Uhh, bounce, uhh,
Shit your mind, let your conscience be free
You're now rollin with them thugs the R-O-C
Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, bastard
Get your wig back by the wig push-backer

Uhh, uhh, Bleek in the house

here, never left
Still bust, or less, still puff, beeatch!

Uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, uhh
Young in the house, Jigga! Yeah
sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga!
Hold up
you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on dubs
Don't forget about them blades shit it up
It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter us?
Jay-Hov, bout to change my to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, call me H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine
it up like liquor on an empty stomach
Y'all don't nuttin?
Who that,

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek

Who the FLUCK, want,
Catch Bleek in Beach out of the reach of the police
Gat on my lap (yeah) on my back (holla)
Yak in my pocket, smokin the chocolate (OO-WEE!)
Holla if you want with

The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, and

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white
Me a gun dawg, unlikely
You know I keep the heat under the wifebeat'
Three-X-T, I'm now, you can't see the pound
Got a gut so gat sit tucked (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A.
Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay high
Whether block shit or shit
Club shit or drug shit, I pop I got shit
Get Sig' any track I'ma spit the to it
Down South bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, spark to it
Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, spark to it
We can smoke in here, put the in the air

Don't change the game for hoes
Who plays the like we supposed

Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, bastard
Get wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

Don't change the for these hoes
Who the game like we supposed

Memph Bleek in the

here, never left
Still bust, more or less, puff, beeatch!

Don't the game for these hoes
Who plays the game we supposed

Young Hova in the Jigga!
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist nigga!

I wear bling to The Source and Soul Train's
More chains than rings, won't do a thing
I bangs the in plain, daylight I'm deranged
right at your brain; by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one shot ya
It's only one Roc La
Sigel lock Philly up, is me
Matter of fact, the coast fuck took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real
Volume 3 still more records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is sayin?
Five million I that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, Grammy winner
repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter
Please repeat after me, there's one rule
I not, lose!