Luyện nghe bài hát 200 Bars and Runnin'

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

[Verse 1: The
No detox I'm dog
Like the solo Reeboks right up me dog
And it feel I done it before
Sit in the pollutin the airwaves like a hummer exhaust
Don't let MAKAVELI fool you homey thuggin it
out a little liquor for the loved ones that we lost
You ain't gotta wait for the album I don't fuck The Source
But I turn up my and let it bump in the Porsche
I mean turn up my B.I.G. and let it in the Porsche
Tell 'em to roll red when he come in New York
Hip-hop police on me think they New York
Till I lace my and1 'em how to run in New York
tryin to take me downtown put me under the court
'cause Joe told 'em I carry a gun in New York
And homey strictly fact he got ripped on wax
So he snitched just to get me
No matter you say dog your shit be whack
You better watch you say it might get you clapped
Here's a little advice switch your raps
'cause shit on your last album ain't get you PLAQUES
What you need a gun? I'll get you that
P-89 nigga let Dre stitch you
HE AIN'T A Industry niggaz admit to that
But I even 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 knew
Put a gun in his mouth yeah, do that
He a pussy (sniff, sniff) his own kid knew
I'm Ready To Die B.I.G that
He ain't eatin look at his white tee you see his ribs through that
You cocksucker let your ears do
Or later do me ooh wee now back to rap
2 Lincoln sittin back to back
Leavin Jersey naw nigga Hackensack
that somewhere where the crackers at
Real far from the roaches and rats is at
Come to Compton I'll show you the racquet's at
Down the street from the centers where they hack-a-shack
Give the money back I AIN'T have to rap
Break out tell him crack is back
That's nine a bird take half of that
Import it, export it in jacks
When you get to the ask for Black
You what you started with give him half of that
He gon give you 50 g's in a plastic
And I'm a you 3500 cash for that
Gotta keep your closed or I'm a blast the Mack
They believe you the whole world know that bastard rap
Once you outta the throne you can't have it
Retirement and ain't nothing after that
Except you layin in a casket
Suit on you go to heaven with timberland boots on
No subliminals I talkin to you Shawn
I'm talkin to that heartless mouse with no on
Who the put you on
Faggot ass nigga let men his salad like croutons
I fuck with Fab get my DJ on
Sit inside Hot 97 with no on
And it don't matter IF Sway or KaySlay
Angie Martinez I'll 'em back to k-day
act like they forgot about Dre-day
I don't rap for Free that's why they AJ
It's me leaking through stereo
me AS AN emcee prepare for your burial
I kill without lettin the Desert blow
Razor tongue and I'm far Haitian son
All black like the range rover
niggaz around The Game like The Game won't kill
Let me you the stars take you back to the car
Rewind time 3, 1994
I was in my teen's deuce-deuce in my Levi's
When Nas hit the scene I was still knee-highs
Runnin with my brother he was seventeen
Two guns in the upper so we hit the block
Saw niggaz from a rival bumpin Dre
Ran up on the '64 and that's all she
We runnin through the alley like Bishop chasin Ass
First murder and I did 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
in New York know that you a fag
Come out the closet the world how to use a pad
Speakin death on my red
Naw he couldn't have said that so I raised my
at my Nextel got a call from Santana
That nigga a pussy we saw him in Atlanta
So I hopped on the first thing to Atlanta
up at 112 ran up on that black phantom
Security hopped out no Joe in
Outkast gettin ready for a show in here
So I uncocked the .44 hopped in the cherry
Chrome grill with the G-Unit
We watched Hov go now the waitin for my solo
I'm the man Stat Quo
I ain't explain even Bo know
Have of these rap niggaz is faker rolls gold
Get hit in the face the back of the .44
And pissed on tryin to play The Game with a nose
My bitch than you yeah Vita loco
I haven't one record got rap in a chokehold
I'm Dre certified like the of the band
Run up you sure to die I'll leave you you stand
Smurf-ette around New York like he the man
But he peed in his
he saw us at Summer Jam
Lucky I wasn't there I had to my man
Or I would've New York like the Son Of Sam
What you mean terrorize New
I mean expose these pussy ass like I'm Too Short
Somebody Domination I'll leave 'em in parts
leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, buried in Central Park
He can't walk through New York no like john STARKS
Gotta call 'cause i'mma break his like Hot-Sauce
Ask niggaz from your hood I'm thorough IN 5
Sit on any stoop ? In the
till Alpo come home
Like AZ Harlem Dre gon pay me regardless
'cause he know Jay-Z
And these other rap labels don't feed they artists
Talkin shit you got three garages
Gettin money off Roc like E and carter
Showin off your little like these is flawless
him 50 cent a day I can see he starvin
I got R&B bitches me mnage's
massages I could hear Eazy talkin
Tellin me to have a seat in office
Buy and get Lil' E involved in
Promote without magazine in Boston
a couple mil make Beans a offer
Give him we don't see that often
But it was all a dream like I Memph Bleek in Marcy
I ain't say you see Bleek in Marcy
I said my said he won't see in Marcy
I'm from Compton where niggaz to bleed for BARKLEY'S
Drive lo-lo's and we need keys to start 'em
Just a little for your summer vacation
your chain 'cause every nigga in L.A. waitin
Mad 'cause Detroit beat the shit out the
And they'll kill you 'cause can't find Gary Payton
Meanwhile the throne vacant and Da Band ain't it
Shyne got a new deal, Def Jam pay us
Jones got knocked out shortly after they weighed him in
niggaz got beef with G-Unit but ain't shit
Quiet as a church on
Niggaz say they hate my but my alerts ON THEY TWO ways
Nigga I'm a hazard Michael Jackson in khakis
Touch kids but I do that a semi-automatic
With or without traffic I pull my out and blast it
I'm blind to the like Stevie 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 white
Let him die and come back at 'em he white flaggin
Spreadin like when I see Game I might jack 'em
I'm tellin the world he reach for my chain I might 'em
'cause shot me in 2001
Took one in the 'cause I was too proud 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 got shot up in CaShville
And Sha Money told me Banks got hit
And Yayo just came G-G-G-Unit
at a D-12 concert
A fan asked me how it feel to be walkin in Snoop's
Niggaz show me love when they see me in the
But they frown when I don't hear none of they beats
Nigga this shit
Em said some shit when was 16 now they to RUIN Slim Shady
I forgive him I got of my own
How you think the streets gon' act know that GOT home
These is birds I can see the feathers on 'em
If Doc give me the word I put this 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 I see cops
Game got the streets locked call
Get the whole fuckin LAPD
Niggaz snitchin to the cops
Get nephews and your niece shot
With my heat in the beach stop
Nigga witta attitude like I heard Dr. Dre doin
fightin for the throne that ain't shit
Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the shoe fit
might think I'm ridin dick
'cause I'M AT the puttin creases in my G-Unit's
Tryin to TO Jesus Christ into lettin me dig 'em up
So they could stand side by side again and it up
This be the last time you hear me biggin 'em up
With suicidal thoughts bangin me and my bitch in the
My conscience me if I put the clip in the buck
It be loud enough to wake B.I.G and them up
What if that was P. sittin in the truck
And 2Pac was in the day HE RECORDED hit him up
I be outside 40/40 bumpin 'Jigga What'
be SIGNED to Dr. Dre I wonder is its luck
They got me on MTV with Banks, Fifth, and
I ain't tryin to be L.A.'s king he a pimp cup

[The talking]
Dogg got the crown nigga
What the y'all 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 be out your motherfuckin mind
Ask KaySlay, ask Clue, ask Kid, ask Funk Flex
murder anyone of you motherfuckers

Ah!