Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

I 50 Cent
He reminds me
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
my friends

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

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

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he
Like I'm the president, but ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little
Before you call 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 to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah standing his
I'm saying if you retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
Watch sleep through 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 wrong thing, smack 'em silly
you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Mac in Philly
?? Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I 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
What's beef? Beef is I murk you on the spot
Labels many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only he got
When beef we eat, we win, but we ain't 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 Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the stop
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 that make breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
I picked up where my Eazy stopped
I saw the coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's
Call Jadakiss, tell him that is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who strapped
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is so?
Now you left back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you Let's go
Drop them off, then the 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 of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm gon' shine
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop
How you drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you 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, throw 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 NORE
You the talk 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 Banks repeat me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna 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 mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at
He freestyled from the pen, just the fact
Said he'd put you with mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta
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 treat it like
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz saying my like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz my name like Mike Jones
I
The is mine, I treat it like home
the reason niggaz saying 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 think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga is more than music
Even Dre it, that 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
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with 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 get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop
NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
nigga 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 Terror Squad, let him scream for the
'cause when you fucking Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off on them CD's and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing
only for your shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
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 through muddy waters Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a 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
if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your mate is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you then ?? then fuck you on
And Life On
Now to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for
Nigga stop acting tough before I 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 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 cops on my left, but I '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, that New cab
Who's this nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., Jigga
If he ain't or Pac then who you got?
We getting of you talkin about who you shot
I'll use another six to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The 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 wanna 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, wanna be in your group
Just sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can back to the block
Fresh white 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
Four times platinum, I done been and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
They say the Lord givth, if take it away
So I build a on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
Niggaz hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to
And the DA waiting on to make a mistake
So they can put me in the 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 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 'em off to Dre, he turned 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 diamonds are forever, then I'm West
Take a look at my chest, a thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the only I got spinning is Daytons
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some
When in the house, they call ??
'cause they heard about went on in D.C
Heard about Hot 97, my beef 50
Now tell me do he got a
I not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, ??
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm acting like Charles Bronson
Middle in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me 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, it's like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up vomit
And I still like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded Rodman
still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my denim
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like kid before the
getting money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I said fuck and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta me
But you ain't gon' do that so motherfucker back
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
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, when the ??
I tried to 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 your fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might 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, it's war he pull out butter knifes
I'ma show 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 and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little
Then he made you temporary replacement for
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
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 Monica when I catch him The Boy is
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his drop, when 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 down like rock
worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, fuck Reebocks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three
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 whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You don't war nigga, you want peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From west to east the is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot 'em
If Eazy decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the
So I the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the baking
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone...