Luyện nghe bài hát 200 Bars and Runnin'

The talking]
What the fuck is all this
He from Cali he rap
He ain't better this nigga
my favorite artist
Fuck y'all hear the

1: The Game]
No detox I'm dog
Like the solo Reeboks right up me dog
And it feel like I done it
Sit in the throne pollutin the airwaves like a hummer
Don't let MAKAVELI you homey thuggin it costs
Pour out a little liquor for the loved ones that we
You ain't wait for the album 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 carpet when he come in New
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 'em I carry a gun in New York
And homey strictly fact he got ripped on wax
So he just to get me back
No what you say dog your shit be whack
You better watch you say it might get you clapped
Here's a little advice homey your raps
'cause that shit on last album ain't get you PLAQUES
What nigga you a gun? I'll get you that
P-89 let Dre stitch you back
HE A Industry niggaz I'll admit to that
But I even want your chain I'll let the Crips do that
12 bars for bitch he won't live through that
a nigga with a ten-year bid knew that
Put a gun in his mouth yeah, yeah do
He a pussy (sniff, sniff) his own kid knew
I'm To Die B.I.G knew that
He ain't eatin at his white tee you could 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
Where's that where the crackers at
far from where the roaches and rats is at
Come to Compton I'll show you the racquet's at
Down the street from the staples centers where they
the advance money back I AIN'T have to rap
Break Harry-O out him crack is back
That's nine five a bird half of that
Import it, export it in cracker
you get to the projects ask for Black
You know what you started with 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 mouth closed or I'm a the Mack
They won't believe you the world know that bastard rap
you outta the throne you can't have it back
Retirement home and nothing after that
Except you layin in a black
Suit on you can't go to with timberland boots on
No subliminals I ain't talkin to you
I'm talkin to that heartless mouse with no on
Who the put you on
Faggot ass nigga let men toss his like croutons
I fuck with Fab get my DJ on
Sit inside Hot 97 no tools on
And it don't matter IF Sway or KaySlay
Angie Martinez I'll take 'em 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 your
Envy me AS AN emcee prepare for your
I kill niggaz without the Desert blow
Razor and I'm far from Haitian son
All black the range rover wheels
niggaz whisper around The Game The Game won't kill
Let me show you the stars take you to the car
time march 3, 1994
I was in my teen's deuce-deuce in my Levi's
When Nas hit the I was still rockin knee-highs
Runnin with my brother he was seventeen
Two guns in the waist so we hit the block
Saw from a rival gang bumpin Dre
Ran up on the '64 and all she wrote
We runnin through the like Bishop chasin Raheem Ass
First murder and I did without a mask
Fast-forward see gettin out a Jag
Two piece suit on he got his rag
forever he still got his swag
Let me catch you in Los Angeles without a
Everybody in New York that you a fag
out the closet show the world how to use a pad
Speakin death on my red
Naw he couldn't have that so I raised my antennas
Look at my Nextel got a call Santana
That a pussy we just saw him in Atlanta
So I hopped on the thing smokin to Atlanta
Pulled up at 112 ran up on that black
Security out no Joe in here
Just Outkast gettin ready for a in here
So I uncocked the .44 in the cherry 'lo-lo
grill with the G-Unit logo
We watched Hov go now the waitin for my solo
I'm the man Quo know
I ain't gotta explain Bo know
Have of these rap niggaz is faker rolls gold
Get hit in the face with the of the .44
And pissed on to play The Game with a broke nose
My bitch harder than you yeah loco
I sold one record got rap in a chokehold
I'm Dre like the leader of the band
Run up you sure to die leave you where you stand
Smurf-ette runnin around New York he the man
But he peed in his
When he saw us at Jam
I wasn't there I had to bury my man
Or I terrorized New York like the Son Of Sam
you mean terrorize New York?
I mean these pussy ass niggaz like I'm Too Short
Somebody Domination I'll leave 'em in parts
leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head buried in Central
He can't through New York no more like john STARKS
Gotta call i'mma break his ankles like Hot-Sauce
Ask niggaz from your hood I'm IN 5 boroughs
Sit on any ? In the thermo
Wait till come home
Like AZ from Harlem Dre gon pay me
he know Jay-Z departed
And these other rap labels know don't feed artists
Talkin shit you got three garages
money off Roc like little E and carter
Showin off your chain like these is flawless
Send him 50 cent a day I can see he
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 that magazine in
Take a couple mil make 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 ain't keys to start 'em
a little information for your summer 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 can't find Payton
Meanwhile the throne and Da Band ain't makin it
got a new deal, Def Jam gotta pay us
PLAYBOY Jones got knocked out shortly after weighed him in
niggaz got beef with G-Unit but ain't shit
Quiet as a on Tuesdays
Niggaz say they hate my music but my ON THEY TWO ways
Nigga I'm a hazard like Michael in khakis
Touch kids but I do that a semi-automatic
With or without I pull my shit out and blast it
I'm blind to the masses Stevie wonder without glasses
I'm a savage spit like a .38 Magnum
16 bars of let the hook toe tag 'em
any MC throw 'em in that white wagon
Let him die and back look at 'em he white flaggin
Spreadin rumors like 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 empty when the found my gun
So I don't bring that gangbangin shit my son
50 took 9 he know how it feel
And I found out Buck got up in CaShville
And Sha Money told me Banks got hit
And Yayo just came G-G-G-Unit
Backstage at a concert
A fan asked me how it feel to be walkin in converse
Niggaz show me when they see me in the streets
But they frown when I don't wanna hear of they beats
Nigga this shit
Em some shit when was 16 now they tryin to RUIN Slim Shady
I him I got problems of my own
How you think the gon' act know that Suge GOT home
These is birds I can see the feathers on 'em
If Doc me the word I put this Berretta on EM
When the is on my piece is on
white sheets is on 'em Doc breathin 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 9-1-1
Get the whole fuckin shot
Niggaz to the street cops
Get your nephews and your niece
With my cocked in the beach stop
Nigga witta like I heard Dr. Dre doin Detox
fightin for the throne that ain't shit
Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the shoe fit
Niggaz might think I'm dick
'cause I'M AT the cemetery creases in my G-Unit's
Tryin to TO Jesus Christ into lettin me dig 'em up
So they could side by side again and live it up
might be the last time you hear me biggin 'em up
With suicidal bangin me and my bitch in the truck
My tellin me if I put the clip in the buck
It be loud enough to wake B.I.G and them up
What if was P. Diddy sittin in the truck
And 2Pac was in the day HE RECORDED hit him up
I wouldn't be 40/40 bumpin 'Jigga What'
Wouldn't be to Dr. Dre I wonder is its luck
They got me on MTV with Banks, Fifth, and
I ain't to be L.A.'s king he carry a pimp cup

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

Ah!