Luyện nghe bài hát Ya Heard

[The - Verse 1]
You see that cherry red on them big ass wheels
See I be playin' them cars, I'm like a big ass kid
wit' that cap gun, so if we play cops and robbers
I'll show you how to pop
Fitted cap too big, so it cover my
That Lambo' that shit, just a public disguise
And that top chick, she for the diamond lane
And I be drivin' all crazy cuz my diamond is (Bright)
As them Las Vegas
It be the in California when I'm ridin' at night
In New York, I be in Midtown, up and down
Havin' meetings all day, baby my is (Bright)
As LeBron's, off on anybody
Tyra on my arm, and we'll crash any party
Yeah, it rain, ain't got shit 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
Turn on the radio a rap

- Verse 2]

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

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

[The - Verse 3]
See I come from the bottom and call me The Game
But I'm just happy that Beyonce know my
I took that Dr. Dre money and I me chain
Then I me a house, then I bought me a Range
Then I me some pussy, then I bought me some brains
But I ain't buyin' that the best rappers is and Wayne
See both of them niggas spit, but y'all act like you 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 certified, my niggas make the murder rise
Readin' my fan mail in jail, Buck Curtis bye
So I'ma it down for them niggas in the South
Slow it put this Rolls Phatom
in my mouth
Throw the Prada slippers on, when I in my house
P. Diddy and Tommy Lee what I'm talkin' about
See, I'm fresh jail, I know you heard I was back
Turn up the radio a rap