Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Runnin'

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

I like 50
He reminds me
And Tony is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
my friends

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

300 Bars and
Just me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring ears a little closer
Before you this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do that? I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a ***** take shots to back
Defending his yard, yeah standing his
I'm if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, throw him a concert in Madison square
Watch everybody sleep it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em
What you thought? Them was the only *****z that rapped in
See them *****z with the soonies leave you in Philly
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I forgot my stake, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
What's beef? Beef is when I you on the spot
Labels signing things, still searching for they Pac
I put on the block
So I don't feel threatened Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the the only homies he got
When beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell records but a not!
big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the stop
And I you black out before you see the cops
I ain't Top from Colors, I'm from Cedar Block
What i got in my high tops make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't he dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
I picked up where my Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the on my back
Sprayed on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
hell to *****z when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's
Call Jadakiss, him that duke is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the ruger clap, is back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
You got reservations in heaven, you Let's go
them off, then pop cristal 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
*****z running their mouth what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I to clapping
And you gon' see the with plans of getting me captured
behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, ***** I pop
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my *****z make calls
1-800-split a ***** wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw off the Queens Bridge
Now career is over, career is over
We in QB, CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, the phony NORE
You the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that shit off lingo, go to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame street doing voice
Bitch ass ***** a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
the wrong *****, when you need help with your rhymes
All he tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I wanna make your beef mine
You got with Ja, why you aint go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the
he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he ain't bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
I knew from the not to trust those cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and it
Do whatever to it, but it in the the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
Came with two hundred, ***** this is more music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot summer
feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I with any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you it
I'll air you out on King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I 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 50's to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop
NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This ***** bootlegging my music, nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So I'ma him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can in L.A.
For caking off on them CD's and tapes
Ask them to a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing
Bitches only feel your shit a lil bit
*****z feel your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killa shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the in his head
He a man for thinking he can walk through 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 king
'cause if left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They'll stab you at Folsom then fuck you on
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for
***** acting tough before I stand over you
you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten shots the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling thats enough, let the bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase I'm locin' backing up
the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic, what
Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I 'em up
The got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of like a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this *****, on pictures with the Jake *****?
Got his crew 'cause he aint the whole cake, *****
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't
If he ain't or Pac then who you got?
We getting tired of you talkin who you shot
I'll use another six bars to you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out with Vivica, three after wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same ***** wanna take us to the Candy
man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Banks hugging
***** got mad when The Game buzzing
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking about we a family, had to go
***** I'll smack that ho I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or your G-Unit shoes
Don't you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit and wait
To be gone, so I can head back to the
Fresh white airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if don't get it
Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
say the Lord givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll for the day
*****z hating on me, don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a
So can put me in the squad car and lock me away
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this 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 turned into granades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got
Like I 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 West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou at
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the only thing I got is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to 'em
So as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they callin all
'cause they about what went on in D.C.
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now tell me do he got a
I think not, 'cause if he did I be involved in this nonsense
be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, like Samantha
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm just acting Charles Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Daina on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like
And I still shine diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the paint shit.
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't
I'm in the hood politican, Impala
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my denim
Chip on my like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred like my wallet missing
Then like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting with my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I said fuck and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka back
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I the dead, everybody remove hats
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 hole to patch up, when the K clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for
It go, how you from but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
nigga playing with his life, I might 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 David 'cause you your life
Get my Vibe, when war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucka I'ma you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little
Then he you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
Picture that, I we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to
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 Candy
you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga Reebocks
I'm fly a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I three spots
280 in, ain't no me back
I'm yelling the world, on my victory lap
first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want
Now whenever muthafucka, who see me?
In the coffin, exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing 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 of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can me from taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone