Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Runnin'

My mama me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 CD
I took that home
That shit was like a muthafucka
Don't with Game

I like 50
He me Spongebob
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

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

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them *****z toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a ***** take shots to back
his yard, yeah standing his ground
I'm if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a in Madison square
Watch everybody through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the *****z that rapped in Philly?
See them *****z the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in
?? said Curtis in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I told the
So they wouldn't get the dogs searching for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard he was shot
What's Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell but a GGG-u 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 I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you out before you see the cops
I High Top from Colors, I'm from Cedar Block
What i got in my high will make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like in there, they can't believe he dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's
I up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my
Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to *****z Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm still by your side, no matter who strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it about who can rap
It's about when the clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
You got reservations in heaven, you Let's go
Drop them off, then pop wit Esko
I'm a say he hit me first, if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a 3-4
Now the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
*****z running their about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon'
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
I go right back, ***** I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop
I knew you changed, when you sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my make collect calls
1-800-split a ***** wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens
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 talk of New York, your is boring
that shit off lingo, go back to PC
And tell 50 you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing overs
ass ***** need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 borrow some lines
That's the wrong *****, you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the
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, Son, go ask Busta that
I from the beginning not to trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason *****z saying my name Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Jones
I
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't I could do it
Came two hundred, ***** this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you it
air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk when I catch the ***** Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised
Don't hit me on the asking what you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for that chain
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop
Or broad day in L.A., tell Em and Dre
This ***** my music, ain't nothing for him to say
me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So take him out his house, put the beam on his face
him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you with Jayceon, you can believe in L.A.
For caking off *****z on them and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese
the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing
Bitches only your shit just a lil bit
*****z feel your shit just a lil bit
On my 50 helped me just a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killa shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell to make him some boots
Get him a band, to cover the holes in his head
He a man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a Man
So the lieutenant ask for his strings
my advice, never wear air max for the pen
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'cause if your left the Aryans your ass will sting
And cell mate 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 Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
***** stop tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
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 like a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
this fake *****, on pictures with the Jake *****?
Got his crew starving 'cause he aint the cake, *****
He Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't or Pac then who you got?
We getting of you talkin about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same ***** wanna us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks
***** got mad when The Game buzzing
So fuck friends now I'm into throwing slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
***** I'll smack that ho I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't be in your 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 on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been and did it
in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord take it
So I a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
*****z hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a
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
the rock, nah this ain't 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 shells going into my
I 'em off to Dre, he turned them into granades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got
Like I my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, I'm Kanye West
Take a at my chest, a hundred thou at jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got is Daytons
The hotter I get the more to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me All-Stars
When in the house, they callin all cars
'cause they heard about what on in D.C.
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now tell me do he got a
I think not, if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
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 friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
police on me like I'm the convict
What to the old school? 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 is noodles, I throw it up like vomit
And I shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded 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 politican, Impala liffin'
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada
Chip on my shoulder I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet
Then re-up like kid the d-cup
Continuously getting with my feet up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I said Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac on two tracks
When I wake the dead, remove hats
We ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
They won't know hole to patch up, when the K clap
I tried to spare you Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your ass nigga
Kept your shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last
Buck, buck, buck from my
This nigga playing with his life, I might to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm Harry-O
And you want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, it's war he pull out butter knifes
I'ma show you who the gangsta
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 bus and felt your little flow
Then he you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
And you got for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was
Then you ran and told 50 I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I told when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of 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 out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in 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, no getting me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want
Now whenever muthafucka, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You want war nigga, you want peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I climb the top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my
Not a nigga nor a bitch can stop me from taking it over
is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone