Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

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

Uh-huh, sick
Get wig pushed 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!
up love
Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on
Don't forget about them shit choppin it up
It's the Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
Jay-Hov, bout to change my to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, call me William H.
On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine
it up like liquor on an empty stomach
Y'all hear nuttin?
Who that,

Nah dawg, M. Bleek comin

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

The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, and

Sigel, Eagle dawg, who else but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white
Me without a gun dawg,
You know I the heat 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 roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb
Whether block shit or rock
Club or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit
Get Sig' any track spit the talk to it
South gon' 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

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

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

Memph in the house

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

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

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

I wear bling to The Source and Soul Train's
More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a
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 coast took it from me
Fourth 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
Ballin repeatedly, on Sportscenter
Please repeat me, there's only one rule
I not, lose!