Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Runnin'

My mama took me to Sam
I to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that shit
That was wack like a muthafucka
Don't with Game

I 50 Cent
He me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Clues
And Lloyd is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

300 Bars and
Just loan me ears for 15 minutes
with me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them they toy soldiers
Oh, boy colder than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a closer
Before you this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a ***** take shots to shoot
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in square
Watch sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, let the lines speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you Them was the only *****z that rapped in Philly?
See *****z with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in
?? Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I the cops
So wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the
I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, searching for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only he got
When beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell records but a not!
big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, the bleeding stop
And I you black out before you see the cops
I ain't High Top from Colors, I'm from Cedar
What i got in my high tops will make your stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe he
Now I'm moving on up to and Weezy's spot
I up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm still by your side, no who comes strapped
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the ruger clap, is rufus
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
You got in heaven, you ready? Let's go
Drop them off, pop cristal wit Esko
I'm a say he hit me first, if me and Dre
All Nas said was he had a 3-4
Now the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
*****z running their mouth about what the fuck they do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to
And you gon' see the captain with plans of me captured
Even bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, I pop mines
How you gon' Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my *****z collect calls
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Bridge
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 lingo, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame street doing overs
Bitch ass ***** need a rhyme dictionary, to his lines
Sound Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
That's the wrong *****, when you need help with your
All he gon' tell you is say one more time
Got mad I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you fucked with that
Then you lied about pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew from the beginning not to those cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason *****z saying my like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason *****z saying my like Mike Jones
I
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z saying my name Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, ***** is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
Both in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef with any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm
You can put it on skee if you it
I'll air you out on King, Mike, or Clue
And watch shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the ***** Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma Em and Dre
This ***** bootlegging my music, ain't 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 beam on his
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can in L.A.
For caking off *****z on CD's and tapes
Ask to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant
Not the replay
I mean the machine that use every time 50 on stage singing like
only feel your shit just a lil bit
*****z feel your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his
He a dead man for thinking he can through muddy waters like Redman
Banks out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, wear air max for the pen
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
'cause if your left with the Aryans your ass sting
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
They'll stab you at Folsom fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've them for yourself
***** stop acting tough before I over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the in the passenger
yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic,
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 like a New cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this fake *****, on pictures with the *****?
Got his crew starving 'cause he aint the cake, *****
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you
We tired of you talkin about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the ***** wanna take us to the Candy Shop
man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd hugging
***** got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing
Olivia talking about we a family, had to go
***** I'll smack ho like I'm Jackie-O
I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
Just wanna sit here and
To be gone, so I can head back to the
Fresh white Nike airs and the socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if they get it
Bentley Coup on daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord it away
So I a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA on Jayceon to make a mistake
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 down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold ***** I put the pen to the page
Similar to them going into my gauge
I 'em off to Dre, he turned them into granades
And Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou at jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the thing I got spinning is Daytons
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they all cars
'cause they heard about what on in D.C.
about Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, like Ronson
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Daina on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up vomit
And I shine like diamonds
They me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the paint shit.
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
I'm in the hood politican, liffin'
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air
I said fuck Benzino and got the of The Source
Feel me? If not I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't do that so muthafucka move back
While I do B.I.G. and impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody hats
We miss ya'll, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I gotta strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you
They won't know which hole to patch up, the K clap
I to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
This nigga playing his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking up on the stereo
for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you love your
Get my Vibe, when it's war he out butter knifes
Muthafucka I'ma show you who the
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you stranded on Tha Row
Juve you for dead and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt little flow
Then he made you temporary replacement for
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run 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 beat boxed
Got 20 to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
in store November, nigga fuck Reebocks
I'm fly like a on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I three spots
280 in, ain't no me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's muthafucka, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever muthafucka, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable,
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the
So I climb the mountain top and put my in
Got the of the world on my shoulder
Not a nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone