Luyện nghe bài hát Change The Game

Uhh, uhh, uhh, go
Uhh, bounce, uhh,
Uhh, bounce, uhh,
Shit your mind, let your conscience be free
You're now with them thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, sick
Get wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

Uhh, uhh, Bleek in the house

Still here, left
Still bust, or less, still puff, beeatch!

Uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, uhh
Young in the house, Jigga! Yeah
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist nigga!
up love
Everytime you see Man I'm rollin on dubs
Don't forget about them blades choppin it up
the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
Jay-Hov, bout to my name to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, me William H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the gunnin
Throwin it up like liquor on an stomach
Y'all don't hear
Who that,

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek

Who the FLUCK, want,
Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the
Gat on my lap (yeah) on my back (holla)
Yak in my pocket, the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!)
Holla if you want with

The Amil, Bleek, Jigga and

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, and white tees
Me without a gun dawg,
You know I keep the right under the wifebeat'
Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you can't see the
Got a little gut so gat sit (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A.
Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I dumb high
block shit or rock shit
Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got
Get Sig' any track I'ma the talk to it
Down gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody to it
Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, spark to it
We can smoke in here, put the in the air

Don't change the for these hoes
Who plays the game like we

Sigel Sigel in the

Uh-huh, sick
Get your wig back by the wig push-backer

change the game for these hoes
Who plays the game we supposed

Memph in the house

Still here, never
Still bust, or less, still puff, beeatch!

Don't change the for these hoes
Who plays the game we supposed

Hova in the house Jigga!
Crist' sipper, six dipper, glitter nigga!

I wear more bling to The Source and Train's
More chains than rings, won't do a thing
I bangs the in plain, daylight I'm deranged
Spray right at brain; by the way this is Hov'
One Dillinger, one shot killin ya
It's one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock up, Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact, the East coast fuck it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin real shit
Volume 3 sold more records than Will Smith
Can't this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, award winner
repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter
Please repeat after me, only one rule
I not, lose!