Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

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

I went down one of them Bodaga shits there in Harlem
Got me a Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD
Took that 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 Bars and
loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a 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 in Madison square
Watch everybody through it
We can go bar for bar, let the lines speak to 'em
What they say? 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 in Philly
Then in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Jack 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 searching for the
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the
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 searching for Pac
I put purple on the
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
it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You records 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, hope the bleeding
And I you black out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD
I'm like in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's
I picked up where my homeboy stopped
I saw the coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring to niggaz when Dre producing a track
it to the streets, put the duece 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 your side, no matter who strapped
Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is so?
Now you left leaning back, to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? 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, beef is kinda see
Niggaz running their mouth 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
Even behind bars, I'm gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm
I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that dog
I need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
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 talk of New York, your is boring
Take that shit off ??, go to PC
And tell 50 you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat 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, with them rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
That's the nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one 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, that's just the
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you fucked with that
Then you about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
The underground is mine, I it like home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz my name like Mike Jones
I
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from but you can chop it and screw it
Do to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is 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 skee if you it
I'll air you out on King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised
hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop
Outside NY, in of hip-hop cops
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 I'ma him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the
For caking off on them 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 instant
I mean the machine G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your shit a lil bit
only for your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some shit
My clips bananas, I a gorilla quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant ask for his strings
Take my advice, never air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'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 Goes On
Now back to the coward of the who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was leave me on the shelf
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
Nigga stop tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack the rest in the passenger
Fase thats 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 on 41st and traffic, what
cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes like a New cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake,
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 about who you
I'll use six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna 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 making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia about we a family, Game had to go
I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't be you
I don't wanna 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 back to the block
Fresh Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if they 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 game and shitted, then my ass with 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, they don't want to play
And the DA waiting on to make a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he them into granades
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if diamonds are forever, I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't break 'em
And the is hot like that wit Satan
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the willing to snake '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 about what 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 this
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at 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
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up vomit
And I still shine like
They me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to 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 outta
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my missing
Then re-up like kid the d-cup
Continuously getting with my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The
Feel me? If not then I guess you kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so motherfucker back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody hats
We miss y'all, can I get a clap?
Now back to rap, why I stay strapped?
On murder 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 time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass
Kept your mouth shut and I you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you like the last nigga
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna the game, talking shit 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
I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
When had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and 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 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 ain't to find
I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is
Take one of Brandy 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, I just beat boxed
Got 20 to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
in store November, nigga fuck Reebocks
I'm fly like a on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I three spots
280 in, ain't no me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, 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 want war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain
A in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone...