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 wack like a
Don't with Game

I 50 Cent
He reminds me
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
my friends

I went one of them Bodaga shits right there in Harlem
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 shit sound some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean cute but they say that bitch a man
So this Black for life now
GGG-UNOT!

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

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, *****z they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little
Before you this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a take shots to shoot back
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 everybody sleep it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em
What you Them was the only *****z that rapped in Philly?
See them *****z with the soonies leave you wrapped in
Then in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis Jack in
Make a U-turn, I go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, that's I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
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 on the block
So I don't feel threatened Ludacris say he coming 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 it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't we pop
You sell records but a not!
big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I you black out before you see the cops
I High Top from Colors, I'm from Cedar Block
What i got in my high tops will make your breathing
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe he
Now I'm on up to George 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 to *****z 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, him that duke is back
I'm by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the ruger clap, is rufus
I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is so?
Now you left leaning back, to Fat Joe
You got in heaven, you ready? 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 mouth what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I to clapping
And you gon' see the with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon'
I'm 10 years younger Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, ***** I pop
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my *****z make calls
a faggot ***** wig
He got wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, is over
We in QB, CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take shit off lingo, go back to PC
And tell 50 you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame doing voice overs
Bitch ass ***** a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them rhymes
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some
That's the wrong *****, when you need help with your
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 aint go at
He freestyled from the pen, that's the fact
Said he'd put you your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew the beginning not to trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't I could do it
Came with two hundred, ***** is more than music
Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
Both feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and
And I beef with any *****, say my muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you it
air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits sell out a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the Whoo Kid
We see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville
That 380 spill brains, I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of cops
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This ***** bootlegging my music, nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, 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 you fucking with Jayceon, you can believe in L.A.
For caking off *****z on them and tapes
Ask them to a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the instant
I the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only feel your shit a lil bit
*****z only your shit just a lil bit
On my 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to killa shit
My bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Reebock to make him some boots
Get him a band, to cover the holes in his head
He a dead man for he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun 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 mate is a 25 to
They'll you at Folsom then fuck you on Rikers
And Life On
Now back to the of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've them for yourself
***** stop acting before I stand over you
Show you how The live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling thats enough, let the bag him up
in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a in 'em
In and out of lanes a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
this fake *****, on pictures with the Jake *****?
Got his crew 'cause he aint the whole cake, *****
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't
If he ain't Cube or Pac who you got?
We getting of you talkin about who you shot
use another six bars to tell you who you not
You 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Banks hugging
***** got mad when The start buzzing
So making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking we a family, Game had to go
***** I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your
Just wanna sit here and
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching fitted

the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one it
Four times platinum, I done been and did it
Came in the game and shitted, wiped my ass with it
They say the givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, wait for the day
*****z on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a
So they can put me in the squad car and me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold when I put the pen to the page
Similar to shells 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 to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou at
crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The hotter I get the more willing to 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me All-Stars
When Game in the house, callin all cars
'cause heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, Samantha Ronson
50 whispered in my ear, like we bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just 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
E. Fresh and Daina Dane on the corner like Common
Now ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I it up like vomit
And I still shine diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like
still Aftermath, two feet in the paint shit.
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, liffin'
And I keep a .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou my wallet missing
Then re-up kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting with my feet up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do so muthafucka move back
While I do B.I.G. and impersonations on two tracks
When I the dead, everybody remove hats
We ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
They won't know hole to patch up, when the K clap
I to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no nigga?
Say my now that's your fucking ass nigga
Kept your shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the nigga
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you love life
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 left you for dead and went to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and 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 my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
Picture that, I we was G-Unit
you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I told Monica I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Shop
you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, I just 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 a Hummingbird 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 first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever muthafucka, who see me?
In the coffin, exhausted, resting in peace
You want war nigga, you want peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the is for the taking
So I climb the top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone