Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

I like 50
He me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Blues
And Banks is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

[The
300 and Runnin
loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy
Oh, that boy colder than Hova he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little
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 take shots to shoot back
his yard, yeah 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 let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you thought? was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
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
I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the
Labels many things, still searching for they Pac
I put on the block
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 the only homies 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 hope you black out you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Block
So I got my hot tops make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD
I'm like Elvis in there, can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's
I picked up where my homeboy Eazy
I saw the coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the
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 them the back
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it about who can rap
about when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got in heaven, you ready? 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
running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of me captured
behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years 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 knew you changed, you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
a faggot nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Bridge
Now career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You ain't the talk of New York, sixteens is boring
that shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame street voice overs
Bitch ass nigga 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 50 tryna borrow some lines
the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more
Got mad 'cause I ain't make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at
He freestyled from the pen, that's the fact
he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
I knew from the beginning I couldn't those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than
Even Dre knew it, boy hot like summer
?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I with any nigga, say my name motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on if you want it
air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon
I told Funk when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he how to DJ with bruised ribs
hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
'cause gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that 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 bootlegging my music, ain't nothing 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 for the jakes
'cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can 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, you'd run and go get him a cake
the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage like
only for your shit 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
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him boots
Get him a band, to cover 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 without a Man
So the lieutenant ask for his strings
my advice, never wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
'cause if your left with the Aryans your ass sting
And your mate is a 25 to lifer
They will you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Life On
Now back to the coward of the hour who 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 kept for yourself
Nigga stop tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling enough, let the coroner 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 41st and traffic,
Hip-Hop 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, New York cab
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake
Got his crew 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
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 to tell you who you not
You 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy
C'mon man, happened to the thug?
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The Game buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing
Olivia about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike and the matching socks fitted

Pull the low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on 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 take it away
So I a house 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 car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
the rock, nah this ain't 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 going my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them granades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got
Like I my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet
Whole crew got chains, a hundred can't break 'em
And the flow is hot 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
Compton Swap meet, to get me All-Stars
When Game in the house, call ??
'cause they heard 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 be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just like Charles Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me I'm the convict
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like
Now that ain't common, it's like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up vomit
And I shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of and I rebounded like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the
I be mad, I ain't, I'm to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh prison
Dollar vision, blow a thou like my wallet missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money with my up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you gon' do that so motherfucker move back
While I do B.I.G. and impersonations on two tracks
I wake the dead, everybody 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 which hole to patch up, when the ??
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for
It go, how you Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
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 last
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in
Tryna the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm Harry-O
And you don't that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma show you who the
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went to the NO
50 you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
Then he you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
Picture that, I thought we was
Then you ran and told 50 I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to
I told Monica I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of 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, like I just boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck
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 it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, 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 rest in
From west to east the flow is outdatable,
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I 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 crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone...