Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

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

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

Uhh, uhh, Memph in the house

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

Uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, uhh
Young in the house, Jigga! Yeah
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist 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, to change my name to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, me William H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine
Throwin it up like liquor on an stomach
Y'all don't nuttin?
Who that,

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek

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

The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, and

Sigel, Desert dawg, who else but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and tees
Me a gun dawg, unlikely
You know I keep the heat right 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, I stay dumb high
block shit or rock shit
Club shit or drug shit, I pop I got shit
Get any track I'ma spit the talk to it
Down South gon' Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, spark to it
Every dawg, Blood 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

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

Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig

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

Memph in the house

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

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

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

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