Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 CD
I took that shit
That shit was wack a motherfucker
Don't with Game

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

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

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

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder 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 call this a diss, and you make pissed
Why would I wanna do that? I'm just the new cat
That was if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, hand me the crown
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 lines to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in 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 what I the cops
So they get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, I heard that he was shot
What's Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, still for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the 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 I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like in there, they 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 coast, put the shit on my back
Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell the rooster's back
Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
I'm still by side, no matter who comes strapped
Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you Let's go
them off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas said was he had a ??
Now the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make calls
1-800-split a faggot 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, the phony NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, sixteens is boring
that shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you a copy of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need with your rhymes
All he tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you go at Shyne?
He freestyled 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 your pops, he ain't bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
I knew from the beginning I trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like 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 Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
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 bars, they ain't think I could do it
with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and
And I beef with any nigga, say my 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 shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ bruised ribs
hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
Bloods gonna 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., tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, nothing for him to say
me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So I'ma him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'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 will see he
If 50 was Puffy, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the instant
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on 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 back to killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell Reebock to make him boots
Get him a head band, to cover the in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy like Redman
blacked 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 king
'cause if your left with the Aryans your ass sting
And cell 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 leave me on the
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
Nigga stop acting before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a move I'm your 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 the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
Hip-Hop on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes like a New cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you
We getting tired of you talkin who you shot
I'll use six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months after
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks
Nigga got mad The Game start buzzing
So fuck friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
Just wanna sit and wait
To be gone, so I can back to the block
Fresh white Nike and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if don't get it
Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, wait for the day
Niggaz hating on me, 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 drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
'cause I'm a nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned into granades
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot like wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The hotter I get the more to snake 'em
So soon as the drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some
When in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard about what on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my with 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
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 happened to the old school? I thought it was
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the like Common
Now that common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up vomit
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 to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
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 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 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 impersonations on two tracks
When I the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a clap?
Now back to rap, why I 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 ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the nigga
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
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 when I'm reincarnating
And you don't want that David 'cause you love life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma show you who the
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
When Suge had you, you stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt little flow
Then he made you replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
And you got robbed for your spinning chain in Chicago
I call my Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
Picture that, I we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to
I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is
one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his drop, when I run inside 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 like sheet rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck
I'm fly like a on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need spots
280 in, ain't no getting me
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You don't want war nigga, you peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace '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 weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat can stop me from taking it over
is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is
I'm gone...