Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

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

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

Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in the

Still here, left
bust, more 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
Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on
Don't about them blades shit choppin it up
It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who than us?
Jay-Hov, to change my name to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, call me H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the gunnin
Throwin it up like on an empty stomach
Y'all don't nuttin?
Who that,

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek

Who the FLUCK, want,
Bleek in South 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!)
if you want drama with

The Amil, Bleek, Jigga and

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and tees
Me without a gun dawg,
You know I the heat right under the wifebeat'
Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you see the pound
Got a little gut so gat sit (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A.
Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, I stay dumb high
Whether block shit or rock
Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got
Get Sig' any I'ma spit the talk to it
Down South gon' bounce gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, spark to it
Every dawg, every in the hood, bark to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, spark to it
We can in here, put the choke in the air

change the game for these hoes
Who plays the game like we

Sigel in the house

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

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

Bleek in the house

Still here, left
Still bust, or less, still puff, beeatch!

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

Hova in the house Jigga!
Crist' sipper, six dipper, glitter nigga!

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