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 shit was wack a motherfucker
Don't with Game

I like 50
He me Spongebob
And Tony is Blues Clues
And Banks is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

Game]
300 Bars and
Just loan me your ears for 15
Walk me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy
Oh, that boy colder Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a closer
Before you call this a diss, and you Hova pissed
Why I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to back
Defending his yard, yeah standing his
I'm saying if you retire, then 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, I'll let the speak to 'em
What say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that in Philly?
See them niggaz with the leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Curtis Jack in
Make a U-turn, I go back 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 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 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 the only 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 hoping I fall, hope the stop
And I hope you black out before you see the
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar
So I got my hot tops that make your stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, your CD shop
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 west coast, put the on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring to niggaz when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's
Call Jadakiss, him that duke is back
I'm still by side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't who can rap
It's about when the ?? clap, is rufus
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 Let's go
Drop them off, then the sound 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 what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to
And you gon' see the captain with of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon'
I'm 10 years younger Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go back, nigga I pop mines
How you drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz collect calls
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, sixteens 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 Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street voice overs
ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your mine
You got with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could Justo back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
the reason niggaz 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 the shit moving
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre knew it, 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
air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch shits 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
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask 50's 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 nigga bootlegging my music, ain't for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his
So take 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 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
the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant 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 shit a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some killer
My clips bananas, I kill a quick
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his
He a dead man for thinking he can walk muddy waters like Redman
Banks out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his
Take my advice, never air max for the ??
you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
'cause if your left with the your ass will sting
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you then ?? then you on Rikers
And Life On
Now back to the coward of the hour who and said he write my songs
He told Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for
stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The live on top of The Massacre
Make a I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the
yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' up
Reverse the '05 hurse on and traffic, what
cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake
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 of you talkin about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out a gangsta
You went out Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna us to the Candy Shop
man, what 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 about we a family, had to go
Nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm
'cause I don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your shoes
want you on my hooks, don't 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 matching fitted

Pull the brim low, if they get it
Bentley Coup on daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if take 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
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive down way
Pushing the rock, nah this no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the to stay
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 Blaze, 'cause 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 are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a thou wet jacob
Whole got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the is hot like that wit Satan
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they ??
'cause heard about 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 be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this
I'd rather be rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm acting like Charles Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was
E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I still like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the
I be mad, I ain't, I'm to stop I can't because
I'm in the politican, Impala ??
And I keep a black .45 on the of my prada denim
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air
I fuck Benzino 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
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay
On that T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't which 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 nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I you a pass nigga
Now I lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
This 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, when it's war he pull out butter
Muthafucker I'ma you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you were on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and 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 hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in
I my nigga Jojo 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 hard to
I Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, I run inside the Candy 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 like sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga Reebocks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a 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 first it was Buddens, then it was
Now it's motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From west to east the flow is outdatable,
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with
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 the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from it over
This is crack music, go get the baking
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone...