Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

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

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

Verse 2: ras
Men must be either or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, power, nigga 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 so nasty, it'll make little kim blush
As if, a 98 bentley didn't me
To lay bullshit this empty
But consequently my conscience permit me
I'm one-third black man, one-third jackie
sand, shiftin across the surface of the land
Golden state let my nuts hang like niggas in nooses
While you givin groupies all your
I'm known for fucking in suskis
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
and feared, severe yet loved
The full time titan fighting three over night thugs
So keep your, hand out your rectum 'cause you can't shit
Don't rock shit, hustlers
Claimin' they got more keys a locksmith
What part of the game is
round, give me the mic, the money
The pussy in order, the mortar over populated
Get fucked and copulated
And all you chumps on some you owe me an shit
Can suck yo out my dick

3:
(ras kass)
This is for the niggas, the yak sippers
The part strippers,slash full time student,and fifty buck slippers
I got athletes feet,we run contrete streets
Sporting cleets, nothing sweet
(xzibit)
I'm making rappers get they together
Still smokin, still drinkin, still clear thinkin
Everyday is the weekend, thru in a lincoln
And so sick, the whole car start stinking