Luyện nghe bài hát 200 Bars and Runnin'

The talking]
the fuck is all this noise?
He Cali he can't rap
He ain't better than nigga
That's my artist
y'all hear the breakdown

[Verse 1: The
No I'm comfortable dog
Like the solo Reeboks up under me dog
And it feel like I it before
Sit in the throne pollutin the airwaves like a exhaust
let MAKAVELI fool you homey thuggin it costs
Pour out a little liquor for the loved ones we lost
You ain't gotta wait for the I don't fuck with The Source
But I turn up my and let it bump in the Porsche
I turn up my B.I.G. and let it bump in the Porsche
Tell 'em to roll red when he come in New York
Hip-hop police on me think they runnin New
Till I my and1 show 'em how to run in New York
tryin to take me downtown put me under the court
'cause Joe Buddens told 'em I carry a gun in New
And homey that's fact he got ripped on wax
So he snitched to get me back
No matter what you say dog your shit be
You better watch you say it might get you clapped
Here's a little advice homey switch your
'cause that shit on your last album ain't get you
What nigga you need a gun? I'll get you
P-89 let Dre stitch you back
HE AIN'T A Industry niggaz I'll admit to
But I don't want your chain I'll let the Crips do that
12 bars for that bitch he won't through that
Even a nigga with a ten-year bid that
Put a gun in his yeah, yeah do that
He a pussy (sniff, sniff) his own kid that
I'm To Die B.I.G knew that
He ain't eatin look at his white tee you see his ribs through that
You cocksucker let ears do that
Or ride later do me ooh wee now to rap
2 Lincoln continentals sittin to back
Leavin Jersey City naw Hackensack
Where's that where the crackers at
Real far from the roaches and rats is at
to Compton I'll show you where the racquet's at
Down the from the staples centers where they hack-a-shack
Give the advance money back I have to rap
Break out tell him crack is back
That's nine five a take half of that
it, export it in cracker jacks
When you get to the ask for Black
You know what you with give him half of that
He gon give you 50 g's in a plastic
And I'm a give you cash for that
Gotta keep your mouth closed or I'm a blast the
They won't believe you the world know that bastard rap
Once you outta the you can't have it back
Retirement home and nothing after that
Except you in a casket black
Suit on you can't go to heaven with timberland on
No I ain't talkin to you Shawn
I'm talkin to that heartless with no jewels on
Who the put you on
Faggot ass nigga let men his salad like croutons
I with Fab get my DJ Clue on
Sit inside Hot 97 with no on
And it don't IF it's Sway or KaySlay
Martinez I'll take 'em back to k-day
They act they forgot about Dre-day
I don't rap for that's why they fired AJ
It's me leaking your stereo
Envy me AS AN emcee for your burial
I kill without lettin the Desert blow
tongue and I'm far from Haitian son
All black like the range rover
niggaz whisper around The Game The Game won't kill
Let me show you the take you back to the car
Rewind time march 3,
I was only in my teen's deuce-deuce in my
Nas hit the scene I was still rockin knee-highs
Runnin with my brother FASE he was
Two guns in the upper so we hit the block
Saw niggaz from a rival gang Dre
Ran up on the '64 and that's all she
We runnin through the alley like chasin Raheem Ass
First and I did that without a mask
see Game gettin out a Jag
Two piece on he still got his rag
Gangbangin he still got his swag
Let me catch you in Los Angeles without a
Everybody in New York know you a fag
out the closet show the world how to use a pad
Speakin death on my red
Naw he couldn't said that so I raised my antennas
Look at my Nextel got a call Santana
That nigga a pussy we just saw him in
So I hopped on the first thing to Atlanta
Pulled up at 112 ran up on that black
Security hopped out no Joe in
Outkast gettin ready for a show in here
So I the .44 hopped in the cherry 'lo-lo
Chrome grill the G-Unit logo
We watched Hov go now the waitin for my solo
I'm the man Stat Quo
I ain't gotta explain Bo know
Have of these rap niggaz is than rolls gold
Get hit in the face the back of the .44
And pissed on tryin to play The Game with a broke
My bitch harder than you yeah Vita
I haven't sold one got rap in a chokehold
I'm Dre certified like the leader of the
Run up you to die I'll leave you where you stand
Smurf-ette runnin around New like he the man
But he in his pants
When he saw us at Jam
Lucky I wasn't I had to bury my man
Or I terrorized New York like the Son Of Sam
What you mean terrorize New
I mean expose these pussy ass niggaz like I'm Too
Somebody Domination I'll leave 'em in parts
leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head buried in Central
He walk through New York no more like john STARKS
Gotta call i'mma break his ankles like Hot-Sauce
Ask niggaz from hood I'm thorough IN 5 boroughs
Sit on any stoop ? In the
Wait Alpo come home
Like AZ Harlem Dre gon pay me regardless
he know Jay-Z departed
And these other rap labels know don't they artists
blueprint shit you got three garages
Gettin money off Roc like E and carter
Showin off your little chain like these is
Send him 50 a day I can see he starvin
I got R&B givin me mnage's
massages I could hear Eazy talkin
Tellin me to have a in Tamika's office
Buy and get Lil' E involved in
Promote without that in Boston
Take a couple mil make Beans a
Give him money we see that often
But it was all a dream like I seen Memph Bleek in
I ain't say you won't see in Marcy
I said my said he won't see Bleek in
I'm from Compton where used to bleed for BARKLEY'S
lo-lo's and we ain't need keys to start 'em
Just a little information for your vacation
Bring your chain 'cause every nigga in L.A.
Mad 'cause Detroit the shit out the Lakers
And they'll kill you 'cause THEY find Gary Payton
the throne vacant and Da Band ain't makin it
Shyne got a new deal, Def Jam pay us
PLAYBOY Jones got knocked out shortly after weighed him in
niggaz got with G-Unit but ain't sayin shit
as a church on Tuesdays
Niggaz say they my music but my alerts ON THEY TWO ways
I'm a hazard like Michael Jackson in khakis
Touch kids but I do that a semi-automatic
With or traffic I pull my shit out and blast it
I'm blind to the masses like wonder without glasses
I'm a spit murder like a .38 Magnum
16 bars of let the hook toe tag 'em
Murder any MC throw 'em in that wagon
Let him die and come back look at 'em he white
rumors like when I see Game I might jack 'em
I'm tellin the world he for my chain I might clap 'em
'cause shot me in 2001
Took one in the heart 'cause I was too to run
The clip was when the police found my gun
So I don't bring that gangbangin around my son
50 took 9 he know how it feel
And I found out Buck got shot up in
And Sha Money told me Banks got hit
And just came home G-G-G-Unit
Backstage at a D-12
A fan asked me how it to be walkin in Snoop's converse
show me love when they see me in the streets
But they frown when I don't wanna hear none of beats
this shit crazy
Em said shit when was 16 now they tryin to RUIN Slim Shady
I him I got problems of my own
How you think the streets gon' act know Suge GOT home
niggaz is birds I can see the feathers on 'em
If Doc give me the word I put Berretta on EM
the beef is on my piece is on
Them white sheets is on 'em Doc on 'em
And I got an clip in my Reeboks
'cause I'm in and out my socks every time I see
Game got the streets locked 9-1-1
Get the fuckin LAPD shot
Niggaz to the street cops
Get your nephews and your shot
With my heat cocked in the stop
Nigga witta attitude like I heard Dr. Dre doin
Niggaz for the throne that ain't shit
Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the won't fit
Niggaz think I'm ridin dick
I'M AT the cemetery puttin creases in my G-Unit's
Tryin to talk TO Jesus Christ lettin me dig 'em up
So they could stand side by again and live it up
This might be the last time you me biggin 'em up
With suicidal thoughts me and my bitch in the truck
My tellin me if I put the clip in the buck
It might be loud to wake B.I.G and them up
if that was P. Diddy sittin in the truck
And was in jail the day HE RECORDED hit him up
I wouldn't be outside 40/40 'Jigga What'
Wouldn't be SIGNED to Dr. Dre I wonder is its
got me on MTV with Banks, Fifth, and Buck
I ain't to be L.A.'s king he carry a pimp cup

[The talking]
Dogg got the crown nigga
What the fuck mad at me for
I sold one fuckin record
I'm just tryin to use these 200 bars to feed my family
I no threat
I can't rap I'm from remember
You gotta be out your mind
Ask KaySlay, ask Clue, ask Kid, ask Funk Flex
I'll murder of you motherfuckers

Ah!