Luyện nghe bài hát Face Off

Sauce motherfucking, jigga, jigga this

This goes out to my Brooklyn put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't these hoes
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we love these hoes

Yeah (If ya want put ya guns up it's on)
know that when the sun's up I'm gone
(Fuck them bitches though though)
Fuck, now if I bring it niggas know
(All black gat the mack out)
I take shorty to the rest her back out
Sun dress undress her back out (biotch)
(in and out like a crack house) keep it
(Face off the .38 scraped off)
Keep shorty maced can't throw a eight ball
Know place (so it starts when ya least expect)
(the infect) you don't imitate bitches
(piece protected) so I hear you hate
(love the dough, ya flow niggas)
Fuck them though, all out and
Have a out I fucked ya girl
(On top now we call out the world)
(Face off!)

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya me
(If ya feel me) 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we love these hoes

(I ladies I'm lovin' ya right)
You be used to me trickin' but we fuckin' tonight
(No no dine) no wheelin' the whip
All night long just feelin' the dick
(Sauce mothafuckin' slayin' I'm with no delayin')
(Can you beat that? I eat that) you just
Nigga you neva know a chick could do
(pull the trigga too) the shit jigga do
(My crew) mackin' the bitch (I do)
(back man grands) daddy like I you
(Love hoes jigga?) Ha how that sound?
Women start to we all bat around
Let my team hit it (scatter 'round)
You never wit it (pat 'em down)
for cream in it (These riches)
Got nu'hin to do wit bitches
(Nothin' y'all can do to these digits)
(Face Off!)

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day 'em all night we don't love these hoes
This goes out to my Brooklyn put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these

(Can I touch that?) what's Leave it for dead.
Keep ya arm over ya my nigga (keep ya head)
(keep a mind to survive if ya ya dead)
Stay fly 'til ya die nigga with prayer
(with each ya say I guess the beef is dead)
Ladies & (like impeach the Prez)
(Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat feds)
(broad day like De shoot all day)
I'm the man fuckin' the tracks and you just
Get a hit I, I through, blow up, you spit out
What keep it faithfully like salop
one in the drop don't get hit up
(I be the flamer hoes bitch shamer)
(clap cats a snitch she'll give ya whole click up)
Look I done up (and) thought a whole game up
Meet me in the square one in the chamber
(The Off nigga)

This goes out to my Brooklyn put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
This goes out to my Brooklyn put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love hoes

"Track Masters"

(This goes out, put ya up in the air) if ya feel me if ya feel
(Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all we don't love these hoes) Yeah!

This out (to my Brooklyn crew)