Luyện nghe bài hát G.a.m.e.

)

[19 second instrumental to

[The
now, die later, flood or clock the shit out of haters
Got niggaz tryin to "Kiss the Goodbye" like Jada
Get your shit pushed like Jada's CD
I'll put your on that Kenwood TV
So you can see hell in 3D, right there dog
And the Game behind the Desert is a dog
If it's pussy, I share it dog, beef I'm right here dog
I'm on the block, Nike Airs on
Gucci check, Coogi sweat, they know
if on the truck, give me coochie yet
But I come through in the new GS with two, tecs
Got Harlem Shakin like the new G. Dep
to read my whole script, but ain't seen the movie yet
Better that glock stuffed tonight
I'm comin through Young Noble, and we, gon', make, it
A block tonight

2X: The Game]
Getting American Money Easy, all I
The All Motherfuckers Envy, all my dough
It's a West knot, watch, let it bang out
Shots range out, for all the gangsta

Game]
Lace your tips, polish gators, we like odds in Vegas
You can't ball? Then it's the haters
Can't breathe it's probably the Desert, if you a gangsta or not
I a fuck dog, bullets is hot
And every nigga cry when he hit, the more pain
the more blood drain, he survivin shit
And your niggaz ain't gon' for shit, they know
if came through everybody in the X-5 is hit
Red rag or rag, niggaz die for this
The Game the reason all niggaz on that "Cali Love" shit
Compton get grimy too, pull you out of that 6
Fuck you up like one do
And I dare y'all to stop on the 'Shaw, and King
hard, Doogie Howser pullin bullets out your jaw
Turn your round trip into a one-way
You can visit, but you can not lie and it

[Young
Aiyyo, we left a stain on your block, you came a cop
fingers at them niggaz, that kept shit hot
Next to 'Pac, I'm the hottest thang out, homey we can out
Outlaw air it out, box 'em in, it out
Learn about your and we right there
Me and have you left right there
N-O-B-L-E,
We with ease, and I double my cheese
I got niggaz out in Compton find yo' ass
I got out in Jersey, that'll hide yo' ass
for a long time if you ever fuckin with
It's a thin dog between the real and the fraud
We killin your squad, my still in the yard
You the type of standin next to the God
The Game is deep, you motherfuckers the streets
Young Noble and the homey Game heat, c'mon