Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

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

I went down one of them Bodaga shits right in Harlem
Got me a bootleg Lloyd and Young Buck CD
that shit home, put it in my boom box
Thought I was bout to be on some radio 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!

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

the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova he sober
I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your 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
That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot
his yard, yeah standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then him a concert in Madison square
Watch everybody sleep it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines to 'em
What they Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in
?? said Curtis in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I my cheese stake, that's what I told the cops
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, I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the
signing 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
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we 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 I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on new 300 C you got
hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm Cedar Block
So I got my hot that make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my
Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
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 back
Call Jadakiss, him that duke is back
I'm by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't who can rap
about when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, 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 back was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the they gon' do to me
But quit the before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still 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 dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my make collect calls
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is
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
Take that shit off ??, go to PC
And tell 50 Cent you 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 street doing voice overs
Bitch ass need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I got signed
He got stuck, he 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you help with your rhymes
All he gon' you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef
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 ain't with that
Then you lied your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it like
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more music
Even Dre knew it, boy hot like 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
air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop
Or broad day in L.A., tell Em and Dre
This nigga my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So take 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 Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and
Ask them to a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant
Not the instant
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your shit a lil bit
Niggaz only for your shit a lil bit
On my album 50 me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a quick
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him some
Get him a head band, to the holes in his head
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 gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, never air max for the ??
you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
'cause if your left the Aryans your ass will sting
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 and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you kept them for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten shots the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling thats enough, let the bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' up
Reverse the '05 on 41st 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 lanes like a New cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac who you got?
We getting tired of you about who you shot
use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out with Vivica, three months wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we 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 Banks hugging
Nigga got mad The Game start buzzing
So fuck 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 don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
Just sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching fitted

the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done there and did it
in the game 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
Niggaz hating on me, they 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 down way
Pushing the rock, nah this no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
'cause I'm a cold nigga I put the pen to the page
to them shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he them into granades
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 diamonds are forever, I'm Kanye West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
And the thing I got spinning is Daytons
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I 'em
Compton meet, to get me some All-Stars
Game in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard what went on in D.C
Heard Hot 97, my beef with 50
Now me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my
Hip-Hop police on me I'm the convict
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up vomit
And I still shine diamonds
They me out of G-Unit and I rebounded 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 .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a thou like my wallet missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The
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, everybody remove
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay
On murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
won't know 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 got no cash nigga?
Say my now that's your fucking ass nigga
Kept 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 with his life, I might have to put him in
play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David you love your life
Get my Vibe, it's war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma show you who the
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 felt little flow
Then he made you replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for spinning G-Unit 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
Picture that, I 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 when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of and pop
his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy 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 rock
Don't worry the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, 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, no getting me back
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 whenever motherfucker, who see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You want war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you replace 'em
If ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the
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 baking
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...