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Game Face
by
Xzibit
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Lyrics
I don't f*ck around I'll break you down in the hours of h All these l.a times motherf*cka's keepin the pace No need to pull strings things still get done To have you yellin at the top of yo lungs So xzibit never speak wit a false tounge Slid off like a handgun Tryin to build an empire to pass to my grandson I never like to talk business over the phone So either have love for the game or leave it alone Plus action speak louder than words And p*ssy move faster than birds So I gotta keep a gameface On the street you slip, and you might catch a hot one Xzibit stay low and kick back like a shotgun I keep it bangin to the end of the line When a rapper think his saggin style is f*ckin with mine, it's divine 'cause my family is harder than bricks Anything to keep it movin 'cause it's harder to hit Chorus: (ras kass) Only right I f*ck wit you when you f*ckin' wit mine Keep it movin to the end of the line And action speak louder than words And p*ssy move faster than birds Gotta keep a gameface (xzibit) Only right I f*ck wit you when you f*ckin' wit mine Keep it movin to the end of the line And action speak louder than words And p*ssy move faster than birds Gotta keep a gameface Verse 2: ras kass Men must be either tramp or the crutch To regulate, relegate, delegate power, nigga touch something Trust no one and die dumping Drained ya battery you barely talking like teddy ruxpin See that's wassup, nigga I don't give a f*ck Say some shit so nasty, it'll make little kim blush As if, a 98 bentley didn't tempt me To lay bullshit over this empty But consequently my conscience wouldn't permit me I'm one-third black man, one-third jackie chan One-third sand, shiftin across the surface of the land Golden state warrior let my nuts hang like niggas in nooses While you givin groupies all your loochie I'm known for f*cking hoochies in suskis And slippin ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Loved and feared, severe yet loved The full time titan fighting three million over night thugs So keep your, hand out your rectum 'cause you can't stop shit Don't rock shit, studio hustlers Claimin' they got more keys than a locksmith What part of the game is this Bonus round, give me the mic, the money The p*ssy in that order, the mortar over populated Get f*cked and orally copulated And all you chumps on some you owe me an apology shit Can suck yo apology out my dick Chorus: Verse 3: (ras kass) This is for the black niggas, the yak sippers The part time strippers,slash full time student,and fifty buck slippers I got athletes feet,we run these contrete streets Sporting cleets, ain't nothing sweet (xzibit) I'm making rappers get they shit together Still smokin, still drinkin, still maintain clear thinkin Everyday is the weekend, mashin thru in a lincoln And style so sick, the whole car start stinking Chorus:
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