Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

I don't fuck around I'll break you in the hours of h
All l.a times motherfucka's keepin the pace
No need to strings things still get done
To you yellin at the top of yo lungs
So never speak wit a false tounge
Slid off a handgun
to build an empire to pass to my grandson
I never like to talk business the phone
So either have for the game or leave it alone
action speak louder than words
And pussy move faster birds
So I keep a gameface
On the you slip, and you might catch a hot one
Xzibit stay low and kick back like a
I keep it to the end of the line
When a rapper his saggin style is fuckin with mine, it's divine
'cause my family is harder bricks
to keep it movin 'cause it's harder to hit

(ras kass)
Only right I fuck wit you when you fuckin' wit
Keep it to the end of the line
And action speak than words
And pussy move faster than
Gotta keep a
(xzibit)
Only right I fuck wit you you fuckin' wit mine
Keep it to the end of the line
And action speak than words
And move faster than birds
Gotta a gameface

2: ras kass
Men be either tramp or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, delegate power, touch something
Trust no one and die
ya battery you barely talking like teddy ruxpin
See wassup, nigga I don't give a fuck
Say some shit so nasty, make little kim blush
As if, a 98 bentley didn't me
To lay bullshit over this
But my conscience wouldn't permit me
I'm one-third black man, one-third jackie
One-third sand, shiftin across the surface of the
Golden state warrior let my nuts like niggas in nooses
While you givin groupies all your
I'm known for fucking hoochies in
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Loved and feared, severe yet
The full titan fighting three million over night thugs
So keep your, out your rectum 'cause you can't stop shit
rock shit, studio hustlers
Claimin' they got more keys than a
What part of the game is
Bonus round, give me the mic, the
The pussy in that order, the mortar over
Get fucked and orally
And all you chumps on some you owe me an shit
Can suck yo apology out my

3:
(ras kass)
This is for the niggas, the yak sippers
The time strippers,slash full time student,and fifty buck slippers
I got feet,we run these contrete streets
Sporting cleets, ain't nothing
(xzibit)
I'm making rappers get shit together
Still smokin, still drinkin, still clear thinkin
Everyday is the weekend, mashin thru in a
And so sick, the whole car start stinking