Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

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

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

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

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he
Like I'm the president, but this the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring ears a little closer
Before you call a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was if a nigga take shots to shoot back
his yard, yeah standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison
Watch everybody through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma 'em silly
What you Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis Jack in
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 start searching for the
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I 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 purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When it's 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 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 out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD
I'm Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
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
hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm still by your side, no matter who strapped
Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about the ?? clap, is rufus back
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 said was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda see
Niggaz running their mouth about the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to
And you see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm
Then I go back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started in that vest dog
I need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got G-Unit wings, them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is
Take 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 Lloyd repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing overs
Bitch ass need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, 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 with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring back
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
I
The underground is mine, I it like home
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 hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 and Runnin
And I beef any nigga, say my name motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch them sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods, Bloods get ya for that Shadyville chain
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma Em and Dre
This bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his
So I'ma take him out his house, put the 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 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
the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant
I the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your just a lil bit
Niggaz for your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I a gorilla quick
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy like Redman
Banks out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'cause if your left with the Aryans your ass sting
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
will stab you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for
Nigga stop acting tough I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the one
Ten shots from the empty the rest in the passenger
Fase thats 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 on 41st and traffic, what
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 like a New 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 ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you
We getting tired of you talkin about who you
I'll use another six bars to 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 nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing
Olivia talking about we a family, had to go
I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I wanna be you
I wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one it
Four times platinum, I done there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
say the Lord givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll for the day
hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA on Jayceon to make a mistake
So can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can drive down way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no Jay
The too hot, and I want the winter to stay
I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them going into my gauge
I 'em off to Dre, he turned them into granades
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
I close 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
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the only thing I got spinning is
The hotter I get the more willing to 'em
So as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some
Game in the house, they call ??
'cause they about what went on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my beef 50
Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd rather be rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner Common
Now ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I it up like vomit
And I still shine diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like
It's still Aftermath, two in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
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 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 ain't gon' do that so motherfucker back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two
I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We y'all, 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 which hole to up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no nigga?
Say my name now your fucking ass nigga
your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in
play the game, talking 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 your
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 were on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and 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 spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I my nigga Jojo to get it back
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 Monica when I him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of and pop
his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy 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 beat boxed
Got 20 to go, lay it down like sheet 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, ain't no me back
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my lap
Remember it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want
Now whenever motherfucker, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You don't want war nigga, you peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain
A king in the making, and the is for the taking
So I the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...