Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

I like 50
He reminds me
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Banks is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

Game]
300 and Runnin
loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy
Oh, boy colder than Hova unless he sober
I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you Hova pissed
Why would I 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 retire, then 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 say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em
What you thought? was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I told the
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 that he was shot
What's beef? is when I murk you on the spot
Labels many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I feel threatened when Ludacris 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 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 I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out 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 Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's
I picked up my homeboy Eazy 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 hell to niggaz when Dre a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm still by side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it about who can rap
It's about the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got in heaven, you ready? Let's go
Drop them off, then the 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 what the they gon' do to me
But quit the before I proceed to clapping
And you see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon'
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in vest dog
I need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a nigga 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, the phony NORE
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On street doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to 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 borrow lines
That's the wrong nigga, you need help with your rhymes
All he tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked that
Then you lied about pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those
I'd kill 'em all, if I could Justo back
The is mine, I treat it like home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
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
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name 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, ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 and Runnin
And I beef with any nigga, say my motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you 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
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, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of cops
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
nigga bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his
So I'ma 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 bleed in the
For caking off niggaz on them 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
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing
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 killer
My bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Reebock to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can through muddy waters 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, wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin
'cause if left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They stab 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 gonna me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've them for yourself
stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten shots the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in and lift 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
this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
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 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 or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Banks hugging
got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking we a family, Game had to go
Nigga smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't wanna be cool, I wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear 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 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 been and did it
Came in the and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord 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 waiting on to make a mistake
So they can put me in the 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 ain't no Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
'cause I'm a cold nigga I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going into my
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them granades
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and up in a Roc chain
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't 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 All-Stars
When in the house, they call ??
they heard about what went on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my with 50
Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I still 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 supposed to stop I can't
I'm in the politican, Impala ??
And I keep a black .45 on the of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred like my wallet missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The
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 '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 T-I-P, kill 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 that's your ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating
And you want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
When Suge had you, you stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and your little flow
he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit in Chicago
I call my nigga to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was
you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
one shot 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 out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy 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 need three
280 in, ain't no getting me
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who beef?
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, exhausted, resting in peace
You don't war nigga, you want peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain
A in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I climb the top and put my stake in
Got the of the world 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 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...