Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

I like 50
He reminds me
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd is Dora the Explorer
They're my

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

Game]
300 and Runnin
Just loan me your for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow fold 'em, them niggaz 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 a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you Hova pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to back
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the
Nah, let Bleek do it, throw him a concert in Madison square
everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I my cheese stake, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
What's beef? Beef is when I you on the spot
Labels signing many things, still searching for Pac
I put on the block
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1
Ask 50, it get on top
You can me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
it's 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 Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar
So I got my hot tops make your breathing stop
I'm a slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like in there, they can't believe you 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
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to niggaz Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it about who can rap
It's about when the ?? clap, is rufus
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got in heaven, you ready? Let's go
Drop off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is foolish see
Niggaz running their about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me
behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop
I you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens
Now career is over, career is over
We in QB, CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's the NORE
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take shit off ??, go back to PC
And 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 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 rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say one more time
Got mad 'cause I wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with
Then you lied about your pops, he never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
I knew from the beginning I couldn't those cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the moving
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef with any nigga, say my motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of cops
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So take him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the
'cause you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on CD's and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant
I mean the machine that G-Unit use time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your shit a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some shit
My clips bananas, I kill a quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him 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 a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
my advice, never wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
'cause if left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your mate is a 25 to lifer
They will you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Life On
Now to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you kept them for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the
Fase thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the on the Maganum
Gun smoking, think I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
Hip-Hop on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this fake nigga, on with the Jake nigga?
Got his starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac who you got?
We getting tired of you talkin who you shot
I'll use another six to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out with Vivica, three months after
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking about we a family, had to go
Nigga I'll smack ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't 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 group
Just wanna sit here and
To be gone, so I can back to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching fitted

Pull the brim low, if they get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one it
Four platinum, I done been there and did it
in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll for the day
Niggaz on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to a mistake
So can put me in the SWAT 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 too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold nigga I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into
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, then I'm Kanye
Take a at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the is hot like that 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, where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard what went on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my with 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in nonsense
be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting Charles Bronson
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the
What happened to the old school? I thought it was
Doug E. Fresh and Day on the corner like Common
Now ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of and I rebounded like Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a thou like my wallet missing
Then like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my Air Force
I said 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 motherfucker move back
While I do B.I.G. and impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a clap?
Now to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash
Say my name now that's your fucking ass
Kept mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my
nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm Harry-O
And you don't want that David you love your life
Get my Vibe, when war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma you who the gangsta
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 made you temporary replacement for
You a bitch, and hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my 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
Then you ran and 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to
I told when I catch him The Boy is Mine
one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, I run inside the Candy Shop
you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
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
worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga Reebocks
I'm fly like a on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three
280 in, ain't no getting me
I'm yelling the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want
Now whenever motherfucker, 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 rest in
From west to east the is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with
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 me from taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...