Luyện nghe bài hát Ya Heard

[The - Verse 1]
You see that cherry red on them big ass wheels
See I be playin' with cars, I'm like a big ass kid
Crazy wit' that cap gun, so if we cops and robbers
I'll you how to pop revolvers
Fitted cap too big, so it cover my
That Lambo' that ain't shit, just a disguise
And that top model chick, she for the diamond
And I be drivin' all crazy cuz my diamond is (Bright)
As them Las lights
It be the same in California when I'm at night
In New York, I be in Midtown, up and down
meetings all day, baby my future is (Bright)
As LeBron's, take off on
Tyra Banks on my arm, and we'll crash any
Yeah, makin' it rain, ain't got on me
The way I ball, the fuckin' should come sit on me
Yeah, I'm out of jail, you shoulda knew I was back
on the radio it's a rap

[Ludacris - 2]

Just down at L.A.X. LUDA!
right! What up Game? Fresh out huh?

Don't you hear it? That nigga named
Slicker than Rick the Ruler, whoop ass Lex Luger
My money long, your shit is shorter than Loompas
And Superman, yooouuu, that ass like Lex Luther
Shoot you then say me gusta, I'll take you to ya maker
My dick's the Staples Center I'll you to see the Lakers
Swoosh! On that Cali' kush, smokin' a muffler
So many red flags I coulda I was in Russia
Game! I got the and the fortune, Compton is scorchin'
Get rid of bullets, my gun keeps abortions
I ain't havin' it, see 'em in the dead
Fake dope is more bass up in my head phones
Adjust your treble, I'm than metal
My verses are hot as shit I recorded wit' the Devil
I'm on another level, they on the elevator
And I'm about to blow this bitch, Game press the detonator,
Fresh out of Georgia, ya I was back, turn up the radio, it's a rap

[The Game - 3]
See I come the bottom and they call me The Game
But I'm just happy Beyonce know my name
I took that Dr. Dre money and I me chain
Then I bought me a house, then I me a Range
I bought me some pussy, then I bought me some brains
But I ain't buyin' that the best is Kanye and Wayne
See both of them niggas spit, but y'all act you don't hear me spit
Like sellin' seven records ain't the shit
I don't win no Grammies, I'm too gangsta
And poppin' Cristal wit' Irv don't me a wanksta
See I'm California certified, my niggas make the murder
Readin' my fan mail in jail, told Curtis bye
So I'ma break it down for niggas in the South
Slow it down put this Phatom
Grill in my
Throw the Prada on, when I walk in my house
P. Diddy and Tommy Lee what I'm talkin' about
See, I'm fresh outta jail, I know you I was back
Turn up the radio a rap