Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama took me to Sam
I wanted to buy a 50 CD
I took that shit
That shit was wack a motherfucker
Don't with Game

I 50 Cent
He reminds me
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd is Dora the Explorer
They're my

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

[The
300 Bars and
Just loan me your for 15 minutes
with me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy than Hova unless he sober
I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm the new cat
That was taught if a take shots to shoot back
his yard, yeah standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in square
Watch sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines to 'em
What they say? is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma 'em silly
What you Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I told the
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 that he was shot
beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, still searching for Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only 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 I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't you dropped
Now I'm on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy 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
Bring hell to when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, them 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
about when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, to Fat Joe
We got in heaven, you ready? Let's go
Drop them off, the sound like Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda see
Niggaz running mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me
Even bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take shit off ??, go back to PC
And 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got
He got stuck, he called 50 borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more
Got mad 'cause I ain't make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at
He freestyled from the pen, just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you 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 beginning I trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
And I'm far from Houston but you can it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the the shit moving
'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef with any nigga, say my motherfuck I'm gunnin'
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 nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods, Bloods get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This nigga my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him for the jakes
'cause when you fucking Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and
Ask them to scratch a record, you see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant
Not the replay
I the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your just a lil bit
On my 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him boots
Get him a head band, to cover the in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can through muddy waters like Redman
blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'cause if your left with the your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to
will stab you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Life 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 them for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough before I stand you
you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling thats enough, let the bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you
We tired of you talkin about who you shot
I'll use another six to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out a gangsta
You out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy
C'mon man, what to the thug?
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
Just sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the one with it
times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord it away
So I build a on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to a mistake
So can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no Jay
The too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'cause 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, the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if diamonds are forever, I'm Kanye West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they ??
'cause they heard what went on in D.C
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50
Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting Charles Bronson
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the
What happened to the old school? I it was rhyming
E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I it up like vomit
And I shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I like Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I keep a black .45 on the of my prada denim
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred like my wallet missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two
When I the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you
They won't know which hole to patch up, the ?? clap
I to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my
This nigga playing his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna the game, talking 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, when war he pull out butter knifes
I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went to the NO
50 heard you on the bus and felt your little flow
Then he made you temporary for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
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 ain't had the ten
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I told Monica I catch him The Boy is Mine
one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, I run inside the Candy 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 to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck
I'm fly a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need spots
280 in, ain't no getting me
I'm yelling the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was
Now it's motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the is for the taking
So I the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat can stop me from taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone...