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 strings things get done
To have you at the top of yo lungs
So never speak wit a false tounge
off like a handgun
Tryin to build an to pass to my grandson
I never like to talk business the phone
So either love for the game or leave it alone
action speak louder than words
And pussy move faster than
So I gotta keep a
On the street you slip, and you might a hot one
Xzibit stay low and kick back like a
I keep it to the end of the line
When a think his saggin style is fuckin with mine, it's divine
my family is harder than bricks
Anything to it movin 'cause it's harder 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 than words
And pussy faster than birds
keep a gameface
(xzibit)
Only right I fuck wit you you fuckin' wit mine
Keep it movin to the end of the
And action speak louder words
And pussy faster than birds
keep a gameface

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

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