Luyện nghe bài hát Ya Heard

[The Game - 1]
You see that cherry red on them big ass wheels
See I be playin' them cars, I'm like a big ass kid
Crazy wit' cap gun, so if we play cops and robbers
I'll you how to pop revolvers
Fitted cap too big, so it cover my
That that ain't shit, just a public disguise
And that top chick, she for the diamond lane
And I be drivin' all cuz my diamond chain is (Bright)
As them Las Vegas
It be the same in when I'm ridin' at night
In New York, I be in Midtown, up and Broadway
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' owner 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 touched at L.A.X. LUDA!
That's right! What up Game? out huh?

you hear it? That nigga named Luda
Slicker than Rick the Ruler, ass like Lex Luger
My money long, shit is shorter than Oompa 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 Center I'll take you to see the Lakers
Swoosh! On that kush, smokin' like a muffler
So many red I coulda 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 havin' it, see 'em in the zone
Fake boys is more bass up in my head phones
Adjust your treble, I'm than metal
My verses are hot as like I recorded wit' the Devil
I'm on level, they stuck on the elevator
And I'm about to blow bitch, Game press the detonator, like
Fresh out of Georgia, ya heard I was back, up the radio, it's a rap

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