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 from the
Sigel in the house

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

Uhh, uhh, Bleek in the house

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

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

Nah dawg, M. Bleek comin

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, the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!)
Holla if you want with

The Amil, Bleek, Jigga and

Sigel, Desert dawg, who else but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white
Me without a gun dawg,
You know I keep the right under 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
Whether block or rock shit
Club or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit
Get any track I'ma spit the talk to it
Down South bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody to it
Every dawg, Blood in the hood, bark to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody to it
We can smoke in here, put the in the air

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

Sigel in the house

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

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

Bleek in the house

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

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

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

I wear more bling to The Source and Train's
More chains than rings, niggaz do a thing
I bangs the in plain, daylight I'm deranged
Spray right at your by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one killin 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 sold more records than Will Smith
call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, award winner
repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter
Please repeat after me, there's one rule
I not, lose!