Luyện nghe bài hát Face Off

Sauce motherfucking, jigga, jigga feel

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 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

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

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
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 fuck 'em all night we don't these hoes

(I apologize I'm lovin' ya right)
You must be used to me trickin' but we tonight
(No wine no dine) no the whip
All night long just feelin' the be-I-itch
(Sauce mothafuckin' I'm sayin' with no delayin')
(Can you beat that? I eat that) you just
Nigga you neva what a chick could do
(pull the trigga too) check the shit do
(My crew) the same bitch (I do)
(back man stack grands) daddy I you
(Love them hoes jigga?) Ha how that
Women start to we all bat around
Let my team hit it (scatter 'round)
You never wit it (pat 'em down)
Check for in it (These riches)
Got to do wit these bitches
(Nothin' y'all can do to stop digits)
(Face Off!)

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 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 'em all night we don't love these hoes

(Can I touch that?) what's Leave it for dead.
Keep ya arm over ya face my (keep ya head)
(keep a mind to if ya sleep ya dead)
Stay fly 'til ya die deep with prayer
(with each ya say I guess the beef is dead)
Ladies & (like impeach the Prez)
(Val Kilmer nigga draw heat with feds)
(broad day De Niro 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 cocked like salop
With one in the don't get hit up
(I be the 4-5th flamer bitch shamer)
(clap cats a snitch she'll ya whole click name up)
Look I done came up (and) thought a whole up
Meet me in the square with one in the
(The Off nigga)

This goes out to my crew put ya guns 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 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 crew put ya 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

"Track Masters"

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

This out (to my Brooklyn crew)