Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

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

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

Verse 2: ras
Men be either tramp or the crutch
To regulate, relegate, power, nigga touch something
Trust no one and die
Drained ya battery you barely talking like teddy
See wassup, nigga I don't give a fuck
Say some so nasty, it'll make little kim blush
As if, a 98 didn't tempt me
To lay bullshit over this
But consequently my conscience wouldn't me
I'm black man, one-third jackie chan
sand, shiftin across the surface of the land
Golden state warrior let my nuts hang niggas in nooses
you givin groupies all your loochie
I'm known for fucking hoochies in
And ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Loved and feared, severe yet
The full time titan three million over night thugs
So keep your, hand out your rectum 'cause you can't stop
rock shit, studio hustlers
Claimin' they got more keys than a
What part of the game is
round, give me the mic, the money
The pussy in that order, the over populated
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 black niggas, the yak
The part time strippers,slash full student,and fifty buck slippers
I got athletes feet,we run these streets
Sporting cleets, nothing sweet
(xzibit)
I'm making rappers get they shit
Still smokin, still drinkin, still clear thinkin
Everyday is the weekend, mashin in a lincoln
And style so sick, the car start stinking