Luyện nghe bài hát Game Face

I fuck around I'll break you down in the hours of h
All these l.a motherfucka's keepin the pace
No need to pull strings things still get
To have you 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 never like to talk business over the
So either have love for the or leave it alone
action speak louder than words
And pussy move faster than
So I gotta a gameface
On the street you slip, and you might a hot one
Xzibit stay low and back like a shotgun
I keep it bangin to the end of the
When a rapper think his saggin style is with mine, it's divine
my family is harder than bricks
Anything to it movin 'cause it's harder to hit

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

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

3:
(ras kass)
This is for the niggas, the yak sippers
The time strippers,slash full time student,and fifty buck slippers
I got athletes feet,we run contrete streets
Sporting cleets, ain't sweet
(xzibit)
I'm making get they shit together
Still smokin, still drinkin, still clear thinkin
Everyday is the weekend, mashin in a lincoln
And style so sick, the car start stinking