Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

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

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

Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in the

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

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

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek

Who the FLUCK, want,
Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the
Gat on my lap (yeah) on my back (holla)
Yak in my pocket, smokin the sticky (OO-WEE!)
if you want 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 Lincoln now, you can't see the
Got a gut so gat sit tucked (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A.
Bang the to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb high
block shit or rock shit
Club shit or shit, I pop shit I got shit
Get Sig' any I'ma spit the talk to it
Down gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody to it
Every dawg, every in the hood, bark to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody to it
We can in here, put the choke in the air

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

Sigel in the house

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

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

Memph in the house

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

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

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

I wear more to The Source and Soul Train's
More chains than rings, niggaz do a thing
I bangs the in plain, daylight I'm deranged
Spray right at brain; by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one killin ya
It's one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock Philly up, 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 than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all
Five million I done that, and I back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, Grammy winner
Ballin repeatedly, on Sportscenter
repeat after me, there's only one rule
I not, lose!