Game Face

I don't fuck around I'll break you down in the hours of h

All these l.a times motherfucka'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 pussy 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 fuckin with mine, it's divine

Cuz my family is harder than bricks

Anything to keep it movin cuz it's harder to hit

Chorus:

(ras kass)

Only right I fuck wit you when you fuckin' wit mine

Keep it movin to the end of the line

And action speak louder than words

And pussy move faster than birds

Gotta keep a gameface

(xzibit)

Only right I fuck wit you when you fuckin' wit mine

Keep it movin to the end of the line

And action speak louder than words

And pussy 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 fuck

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 fucking 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 pussy in that order, the mortar over populated

Get fucked 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