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 shit was wack a motherfucker
Don't with Game

I 50 Cent
He reminds me
And Tony Yayo is Blues
And Lloyd Banks is the Explorer
They're my

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

Game]
300 Bars and
Just loan me your for 15 minutes
with me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz toy soldiers
Oh, boy colder than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a take shots to shoot back
his yard, yeah standing his ground
I'm if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison
Watch everybody sleep it
We can go bar for bar, let the lines speak to 'em
they say? 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 niggaz rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups Beanie 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 searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the
Labels many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened 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 only 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 Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding
And I hope you out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your 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 George and Weezy's
I up where my homeboy Eazy 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 hell to niggaz when Dre producing a
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm still by your side, no 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 in heaven, you ready? Let's go
them 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, beef is kinda see
Niggaz their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of me captured
behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go back, nigga I pop mines
How you drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got G-Unit wings, 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 talk of New York, your is boring
Take that shit off ??, go to PC
And tell 50 Cent you a copy of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
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, when I got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna your beef mine
You got with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with
Then you lied your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I 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
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
I
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can 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 with two hundred, nigga this is more music
Dre knew 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
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
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 asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop
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, 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 scream for the
'cause when you fucking Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and
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 that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
only 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
Tell Ecko to make him a
Reebock to make him some boots
Get him a band, to cover 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 blam without a Man
So the gotta ask for his strings
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 cell mate is a 25 to lifer
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 Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
Nigga stop tough before I stand over you
you how The Documentary 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 the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' 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 lanes like a New cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, New York cab
Who's this fake nigga, on with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake,
He Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't or Pac then 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 out like a gangsta
You went out Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy
man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd hugging
got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or your G-Unit shoes
Don't you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can back to the block
Fresh white Nike and the matching socks fitted

Pull the low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one it
Four times platinum, I done there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass 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 on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA on Jayceon 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 down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah ain't no subliminal Jay
The too hot, and I want the winter 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 turned into granades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got
Like I close my eyes, and up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my
And if are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet
crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When in the house, they call ??
'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 wouldn't be involved in nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this
I'd rather be rock, like ??
50 in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me I'm the convict
What happened to the old I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, more like Top Ramen
The is news, I throw it up like vomit
And I still shine like
They me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
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 side of my prada
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid before the
Continuously getting money my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air
I said Benzino and got the cover of The Source
me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you gon' do that so motherfucker move back
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I the dead, everybody remove hats
We y'all, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I stay strapped?
On murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know which hole to patch up, the ?? clap
I to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck my AK-47
nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the
Prepare for burial, 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 show you who the
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
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 replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to
And you got for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten
Picture that, I thought we was
Then you ran and 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't to find
I told when I catch him The Boy is Mine
one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run the Candy Shop
you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just boxed
Got 20 to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga Reebocks
I'm fly a Hummingbird 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 yelling fuck the world, on my lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now it's motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who see me?
In the coffin, exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable,
homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain
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 nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me taking it over
This is music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is
I'm gone...