Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Runnin'

My mama took me to Sam
I to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that home
That shit was wack a muthafucka
fuck with Game

I 50 Cent
He me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Clues
And Lloyd Banks is the Explorer
my friends

I went down one of them shits right there in Harlem
Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young CD
Took that home, put it in my boom box
I was bout to be on some radio Raheim shit
Man that shit sound some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean Olivia cute but they say bitch a man
So this Black for life now
GGG-UNOT!

300 Bars and
Just loan me your ears for 15
with me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, *****z they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a closer
Before you call this a diss, and you Hova pissed
Why would I do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was if a ***** take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah standing his
I'm if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison
everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines to 'em
What they say? Bleek is let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the *****z that rapped in Philly?
See them *****z with the leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
Make a U-turn, I go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs searching for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, searching for they Pac
I put on the block
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or me, but now the cops the only homies he got
it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You records but a GGG-u not!
big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on new 300 C you got
hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you out before you see the cops
I ain't High Top from Colors, I'm from Cedar
What i got in my high tops make your breathing stop
I'm a slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't he dropped
Now I'm on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to *****z Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to hat
Then call up the pigs, tell the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't who can rap
It's when the ruger clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
You got reservations in heaven, you ready? go
Drop them off, then pop wit Esko
I'm a say he hit me first, if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a 3-4
Now that's the eulogy, is kinda foolish see
running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me
Even bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm
Then I go right back, ***** I pop
How you drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't 50 Cent, my *****z make collect calls
1-800-split a ***** wig
He got wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, the phony NORE
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take shit off lingo, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice
Bitch ass ***** need a dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some
the wrong *****, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef
You got lucky Ja, why you aint go at Shyne?
He from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning not to trust cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason *****z my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason *****z saying my name Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can it and screw it
Do to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, ***** this is more music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
Both in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef with any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm
You can put it on skee if you it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon
I told Funk Flex I catch the ***** Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the asking what you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause gonna get ya
Bloods Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for that chain
That 380 spill brains, I pop shots
Outside NY, in of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma Em and Dre
This ***** my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So take him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the
'cause when you with Jayceon, you can believe in L.A.
For caking off *****z on them and tapes
Ask to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cake
Take the DJ off name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches feel your shit just a lil bit
*****z only feel your shit a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killa shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell Reebock to make him some
Get him a band, to cover the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his
my advice, never wear air max for the pen
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'cause if your left with the your ass will sting
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
They'll you at Folsom then fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the who lied and said he write my songs
He told Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept for yourself
***** stop acting tough before I over you
Show you how The live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the
Fase yelling enough, let the coroner bag him up
in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I 'em up
The Dodge got a in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of like a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this fake *****, on with the Jake *****?
Got his crew 'cause he aint the whole cake, *****
He ain't Nas, B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac who you got?
We getting tired of you talkin about who you
use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same ***** take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what to the thug?
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
***** got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
***** I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit here and
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks

the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
They say the Lord givth, if take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, wait for the day
hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA on Jayceon to make a mistake
So can put me in the squad car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah ain't no subliminal Jay
The too hot, and I want the winter to stay
I'm a cold ***** when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he them into granades
And Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye
Take a at my chest, a hundred thou at jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The hotter I get the more to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they callin all
they heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard about Hot 97, my beef 50

Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be in this nonsense
be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be rock, like Samantha Ronson
50 in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one on my Johnson
police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I it was rhyming
E. Fresh and Daina Dane on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like
And I still shine like
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like
It's Aftermath, two feet in the paint shit.
I be mad, I ain't, I'm to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, liffin'
And I keep a black .45 on the of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my missing
Then re-up kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two
When I wake the dead, everybody remove
We miss ya'll, can I get a clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
They won't know which hole to up, when the K clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your ass nigga
Kept mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating
And you don't want that 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, it's war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucka I'ma show you who the
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you were on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your flow
Then he made you replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga to get it back
He had the in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I told Monica I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Shop
you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in November, nigga fuck Reebocks
I'm fly a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three
280 in, no getting me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was
Now it's muthafucka, yeah, who want beef?
Now muthafucka, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, exhausted, resting in peace
You don't war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I Jayceon
A king in the making, and the is for the taking
So I climb the mountain top and put my in
Got the weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it
is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone