Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

I like 50
He reminds me
And Tony Yayo is Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
my friends

I went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in
Got me a bootleg Lloyd 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 like some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean Olivia cute but they say bitch a man
So Black Wallstreet for life now
GGG-UNOT!

Game]
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 ain't the takeover
Now, the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I do that? When I'm just the new cat
was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah 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 sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma 'em silly
What you thought? was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I forgot my stake, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
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 don't 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
it's beef 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 I bet 10 G's you flop
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 Block
So I got my hot tops make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, can't believe you dropped
Now I'm on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the on my back
Sprayed on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to niggaz Dre producing a track
it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
Then up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
I'm still by your side, no who comes strapped
Fuck 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 back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? 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, is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck 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 still shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only dimes
I knew you changed, when you sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my make collect calls
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw off the Queens Bridge
Now your is over, career is over
We in QB, CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
that shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his
Sound like the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help with rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more
Got mad I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you go at Shyne?
He from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't with that
Then you lied about your pops, he never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew from the I couldn't 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 saying my name like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz 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
with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot 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
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch them shits sell out like a Air shoe
I told Funk Flex 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
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, I pop shots
Outside NY, in of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., 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 I'ma take him out his house, put the on his face
him off at Terror 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, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your shit a lil bit
On my 50 helped me just a lil bit
on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a quick
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
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 walk through waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
my advice, never 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 cell mate is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you then ?? then fuck you on
And Life On
Now back to the of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough before I over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your 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 Makaveli and the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase I'm locin' 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 like a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's fake 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 Cube or Pac then who you got?
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 went out like a
You went out Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the nigga wanna take 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 when The Game buzzing
So making 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 wanna be cool, I don't wanna 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
wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on daytons, I was the first one with it
times platinum, I done been 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 on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait 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 criminal way
the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold nigga I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
Like I my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if are forever, then I'm Kanye West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some
Game in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard what went on in D.C
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm just like Charles Bronson
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top
The flow is news, I it up like vomit
And I still like diamonds
kicked 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 to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, a hundred thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I said fuck and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do so motherfucker move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two
When I wake the dead, remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta strapped?
On murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They know which hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass
your 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 his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating
And you don't that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter
Muthafucker I'ma show you who the
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
Suge 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
he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for your G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I told Monica when I him The Boy is Mine
one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Shop
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the
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 like sheet
Don't worry about the flow, the boy 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 three spots
280 in, no getting 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, exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you 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 mountain top and put my in
Got the weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat can stop me from taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...