Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama took me to Sam
I to buy a 50 Cent CD
I that shit home
That shit was like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with

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

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

[The
300 and Runnin
Just loan me ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the
Now, the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you call a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to back
Defending his yard, yeah his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison
Watch everybody through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines to 'em
What say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I go back to Philly
I my cheese 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 murdered by the
Even I was To Die, when I heard that he was shot
beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, searching for they Pac
I put on the block
So I feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't 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
hoping 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 stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy Eazy
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 niggaz Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? go
Drop them off, then the sound like
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 their mouth about the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the before I proceed to clapping
And you see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm
Then I go right back, nigga I pop
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop
I knew you changed, when you sleeping in that vest dog
I don't 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
a faggot nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens
Now your career is over, career is
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 that off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice
Bitch ass nigga a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
That's the nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef
You got lucky with Ja, why you go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's the fact
Said he'd put you your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I trust those cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
And I'm far from but you can chop it and screw it
Do to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than
Even Dre knew it, boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and
And I beef with any nigga, say my motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch them shits out like a Air Jordon shoe
I Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with 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, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, I pop shots
NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma Em and Dre
This nigga my music, ain't nothing for him to say
me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the on his face
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and
Ask to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese
the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant
I the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches for your shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell to make him some 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 lieutenant gotta ask for his
Take my advice, wear air max for the ??
you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
'cause if left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They will stab you ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my
He Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you kept them for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough I stand over you
you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the one
Ten shots from the Mack the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the
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 Dodge got a hemmy in it, got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the nigga?
Got his crew 'cause he ain't 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 getting tired of you about who you shot
I'll use another six to tell you who you not
You 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The Game start
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your
Just wanna sit here and
To be gone, so I can head back to the
Fresh Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on daytons, I was the first one with it
Four platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
Niggaz hating on me, they want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a
So they can put me in the car and lock me away
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going into my
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them 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 are forever, then I'm Kanye West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the only thing I got is Daytons
The hotter I get the willing to snake 'em
So as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me All-Stars
Game in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard what went on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my beef 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more Top Ramen
The flow is news, I it up like vomit
And I shine like diamonds
kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
I'm in the politican, Impala ??
And I keep a .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou my wallet missing
Then re-up kid before the d-cup
getting money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my Air Force
I said fuck Benzino and got the of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta me
But you gon' do that so motherfucker move back
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay
On murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They know which hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's for payback
It go, how you from but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass
Kept mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down the last nigga
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I have to put him in heaven
Tryna the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David you love your life
Get my Vibe, when war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma show you who the
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
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 flow
Then he you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit in Chicago
I my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
Picture that, I we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of and pop
his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet
Don't worry about the flow, the boy 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 three spots
280 in, no getting me back
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now whoever 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 peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From west to the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever 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 of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me taking it over
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...