Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

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

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

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

the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring ears a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm the new cat
was taught if a nigga 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 him a concert in Madison square
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 that rapped in
See them niggaz the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, what I told the cops
So they get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the
Even I was Ready To Die, I heard that he was shot
beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, still searching for Pac
I put on the block
So I don't feel 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 the only 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 stop
And I hope you black out you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Block
So I got my hot that make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't 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
Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to when Dre producing a track
it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes
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 leaning back, thanks 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 foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck gon' do to me
But the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with 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 drop
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that dog
I don't 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens
Now your career is over, is over
We in QB, CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, the phony NORE
You ain't the of New York, your sixteens is boring
that shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 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 make your mine
You got with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with mom, and you ain't 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 trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit
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 name motherfuck I'm
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 bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause gonna get ya
Bloods, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of 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 beam on his
Drop him off at Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you fucking Jayceon, you can bleed 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, you'd run and go get him a cheese
Take the DJ off name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches for your shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some killer
My clips bananas, I a gorilla quick
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him some
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his
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 lieutenant ask for his strings
my advice, never wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
'cause if your left with the Aryans your ass will
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They will stab you then ?? then you on Rikers
And Life On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he my songs
He Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you kept them for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough before I stand you
Show you how The live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm your ass to the last one
Ten from the Mack empty 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 think I'm backing up
the '05 hurse 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 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 the whole cake, nigga
He Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he Cube or Pac then who you got?
We getting tired of you talkin who you shot
I'll use another six bars to you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out with Vivica, three after wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks
Nigga got mad when The Game buzzing
So fuck making now I'm into throwing slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your
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 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
say the Lord givth, if Lord take it away
So I a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
Niggaz hating on me, they don't Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a
So they can put me in the SWAT car and me away
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can down criminal way
the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I the winter to stay
I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells into my gauge
I 'em off to Dre, he turned them into 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, I'm Kanye West
Take a at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to 'em
So soon as the drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me All-Stars
When in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard what went 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 be involved in this nonsense
be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just like Charles Bronson
Middle 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 Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I still shine like
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
I'm in the politican, Impala ??
And I a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred like my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid before the
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my Air Force
I said Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I you gotta kill me
But you ain't do that so motherfucker move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac on two tracks
I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We y'all, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you
They won't know which hole to patch up, 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 nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass
Now I lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in
Tryna play the game, talking up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out knifes
I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
left you for dead and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your flow
Then he made you temporary for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
And you got robbed for your spinning chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I told Monica when I him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat
Got 20 bars to go, lay it like sheet rock
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 need spots
280 in, ain't no me back
I'm fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
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 '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 climb the 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 crack music, go get the baking
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone...