Luyện nghe bài hát 200 Bars and Runnin'

The talking]
the fuck is all this noise?
He from he can't rap
He better than this nigga
my favorite artist
Fuck hear the breakdown

[Verse 1: The
No I'm comfortable dog
Like the solo Reeboks right up me dog
And it feel like I it before
Sit in the throne pollutin the airwaves like a hummer
Don't let fool you homey thuggin it costs
Pour out a little for the loved ones that we lost
You ain't gotta wait for the album I don't fuck The Source
But I up my Eazy-E and let it bump in the Porsche
I mean up my B.I.G. and let it bump in the Porsche
'em to roll red carpet 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
They tryin to me downtown put me under the court
Joe Buddens told '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 matter what you say dog your shit be
You better watch you say it might get you clapped
Here's a little homey 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 let Dre stitch you back
HE AIN'T A niggaz I'll admit to that
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 with a ten-year bid knew that
Put a gun in his yeah, yeah do that
He a (sniff, sniff) his own kid knew that
I'm Ready To Die B.I.G knew
He ain't eatin look at his white tee you see his ribs through that
You cocksucker let your do that
Or ride later do me ooh wee now to rap
2 Lincoln continentals sittin to back
Leavin Jersey naw nigga Hackensack
Where's somewhere where the crackers at
Real far where the roaches and rats is at
Come to I'll show you where the racquet's at
Down the street the staples centers where they hack-a-shack
Give the advance back I AIN'T have to rap
Break Harry-O out tell him crack is
That's five a bird take half of that
Import it, export it in jacks
you get to the projects ask for Black
You know what you started with give him half of
He gon give you 50 g's in a plastic
And I'm a give you cash for that
Gotta keep mouth closed or I'm a blast the Mack
They believe you the whole world know that bastard rap
Once you outta the 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 I ain't talkin to you Shawn
I'm talkin to that heartless mouse with no on
Who the put you on
ass nigga let men toss his salad like croutons
I with Fab get my DJ Clue on
Sit inside Hot 97 with no on
And it don't matter IF it's Sway or
Angie Martinez I'll take 'em to k-day
They act like forgot about Dre-day
I don't rap for Free that's why fired AJ
It's me through your stereo
Envy me AS AN emcee prepare for burial
I kill without lettin the Desert blow
Razor tongue and I'm far Haitian son
All black like the range wheels
niggaz whisper The Game like The Game won't kill
Let me show you the stars you back to the car
Rewind time march 3,
I was only in my deuce-deuce in my Levi's
When Nas hit the scene I was rockin knee-highs
with my brother FASE he was seventeen
Two in the upper waist so we hit the block
Saw niggaz from a rival bumpin Dre
Ran up on the '64 and that's all she
We runnin the alley like Bishop chasin Raheem Ass
First murder and I did that without a
Fast-forward see gettin out a Jag
Two piece suit on he got his rag
forever he still got his swag
Let me you in Los Angeles without a pass
Everybody in New know 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 said that so I raised my
Look at my Nextel got a call from
nigga a pussy we just saw him in Atlanta
So I on the first thing smokin to Atlanta
up at 112 ran up on that black phantom
Security hopped out no Joe in
Just Outkast gettin for a show in here
So I uncocked the .44 hopped in the cherry
Chrome grill with the logo
We watched Hov go now the world waitin for my
I'm the man Stat Quo
I ain't explain even Bo know
Have of these rap niggaz is than 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 you yeah Vita loco
I sold one record got rap in a chokehold
I'm Dre certified the leader of the band
Run up you sure to die I'll leave you where you
Smurf-ette runnin around New York 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 terrorized New like the Son Of Sam
What you mean New York?
I mean expose these pussy ass like I'm Too Short
Somebody tell Domination I'll leave 'em in
leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head in Central Park
He walk through New York no more like john STARKS
Gotta call 'cause i'mma his ankles like Hot-Sauce
Ask niggaz your hood I'm thorough IN 5 boroughs
Sit on any ? In the thermo
Wait till Alpo home
AZ from Harlem Dre gon pay me regardless
'cause he Jay-Z departed
And these other rap labels know feed they artists
Talkin shit you got three garages
money off Roc like little E and carter
Showin off little chain like these is flawless
Send him 50 cent a day I can see he
I got R&B bitches givin me
Deep massages I could hear talkin
me to have a seat in Tamika's office
Buy Ruthless and get Lil' E in
without that magazine in Boston
Take a mil make Beans a offer
Give him we don't see that often
But it was all a dream like I seen Memph in Marcy
I ain't say you won't see Bleek in
I said my said he see Bleek in Marcy
I'm from Compton where used to bleed for BARKLEY'S
Drive lo-lo's and we ain't need to start 'em
Just a little information for your vacation
your chain 'cause every nigga in L.A. waitin
Mad 'cause Detroit the shit out the Lakers
And they'll kill you 'cause THEY can't find Payton
Meanwhile the vacant and Da Band ain't makin it
Shyne got a new deal, Def Jam pay us
PLAYBOY Jones got knocked out after they weighed him in
niggaz got beef with G-Unit but ain't sayin
as a church on Tuesdays
Niggaz say they hate my music but my alerts ON TWO ways
Nigga I'm a like Michael Jackson in khakis
Touch kids but I do with a semi-automatic
With or without I pull my shit out and blast it
I'm blind to the masses like Stevie without glasses
I'm a savage spit murder a .38 Magnum
16 bars of baggum let the toe tag 'em
Murder any MC throw 'em in white wagon
Let him die and come back look at 'em he white
Spreadin like when I see Game I might jack 'em
I'm tellin the world he reach for my chain I clap 'em
'cause shot me in 2001
one in the heart 'cause I was too proud to run
The was empty when the police found my gun
So I don't bring that gangbangin around my son
Nigga 50 9 he know how it feel
And I found out got shot up in CaShville
And Sha Money me Lloyd Banks got hit
And just came home G-G-G-Unit
Backstage at a D-12
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 shit crazy
Em said some shit when was 16 now they tryin to Slim Shady
I forgive him I got of my own
How you think the streets act know that Suge GOT home
These is birds I can see the feathers on 'em
If Doc give me the I put this Berretta on EM
When the beef is on my is on
white sheets is on 'em Doc breathin on 'em
And I got an extra clip in my
'cause I'm in and out my socks every I see cops
got the streets locked call 9-1-1
Get the whole LAPD shot
Niggaz snitchin to the cops
Get your nephews and niece shot
With my cocked in the beach stop
Nigga witta attitude I heard Dr. Dre doin Detox
Niggaz fightin for the throne that ain't
Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the shoe fit
Niggaz might I'm ridin dick
'cause I'M AT the cemetery creases in my G-Unit's
Tryin to talk TO Jesus Christ lettin me dig 'em up
So they could side by side again and live it up
This might be the time you hear me biggin 'em up
With suicidal bangin me and my bitch in the truck
My conscience tellin me if I put the in the buck
It might be loud enough to B.I.G and them up
What if was P. Diddy sittin in the truck
And was in jail 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 Banks, Fifth, and Buck
I ain't tryin to be L.A.'s he carry a pimp cup

[The Game
Snoop Dogg got the crown
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 ain't no
I can't rap I'm from remember
You gotta be out your mind
Ask KaySlay, ask Clue, ask Whoo Kid, ask Flex
I'll murder of you motherfuckers

Ah!