Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama took me to Sam
I wanted to buy a 50 CD
I took shit home
That shit was wack a motherfucker
Don't fuck with

I like 50
He me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Blues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
They're my

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

Game]
300 Bars and
Just me your ears for 15 minutes
with me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova he sober
Like I'm the president, but this the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make pissed
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm the new cat
That was if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then him a concert in Madison square
Watch sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What they say? is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
What's beef? is when I murk you on the spot
signing many things, still searching for they Pac
I put on the block
So I don't feel threatened when 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 homies he got
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we 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 I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Block
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
I picked up where my homeboy 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 niggaz Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to hat
Then call up the pigs, tell the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that is back
I'm still by 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 want me to die, is so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you Let's go
Drop them off, then the sound like
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas said was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, is kinda foolish see
Niggaz their mouth 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 me captured
Even bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in 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 Bridge
Now your is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, the phony NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your is boring
Take that off ??, 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 repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame street doing overs
Bitch ass nigga need a dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
That's the wrong nigga, you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more
Got mad I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got with Ja, why you ain't 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 your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could Justo back
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz 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 moving
'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot 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 King, Mike, or Clue
And them shits sell out like 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
Don't hit me on the asking what you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that chain
That 380 spill brains, I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop
Or broad day in L.A., tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't 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
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the
'cause when you fucking Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For off niggaz on them 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 G-Unit use time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches for your shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your just a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now to some killer shit
My bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him some
Get him a head band, to the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his
Take my advice, never air max for the ??
you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
'cause if your with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They will you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and he write my songs
He told Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for
Nigga stop acting tough before I stand 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 empty the in the passenger
Fase thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic,
Hip-Hop on my left, but I pass 'em up
The got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of like a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake,
He Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you
We getting tired of you talkin about who you
use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd hugging
Nigga got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm throwing slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna hands, or wear your 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 to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the socks fitted

Pull the low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the one with it
Four platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
Niggaz on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and 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 nigga 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 woke up in a Roc
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye
Take a at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, call ??
they heard about what went on in D.C
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, 'cause if he did I be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd rather be rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we bonding
We ain't friends, I'm acting like Charles Bronson
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the
What to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I still like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I keep a .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my like I'm fresh outta prison
vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid before the
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 then I 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 back to rap, why I gotta strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
won't know which 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 your fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I 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 David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, it's war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker show you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you stranded on Tha Row
left 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 to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in
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 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 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 running out of breath, I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy he hot
Hurricanes in November, nigga fuck Reebocks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need spots
280 in, no getting me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You don't want war nigga, you peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to east the is outdatable, irreplacable
homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy ever to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the is for the taking
So I the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from it over
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone...