Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama took me to Sam
I to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that home
shit was wack like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with

I like 50
He reminds me
And Tony Yayo is Blues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the
my friends

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

[The
300 Bars and
Just loan me ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy
Oh, that boy than Hova unless he sober
I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make pissed
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to back
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then him a concert in Madison square
everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What they Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you in Philly
dash in groups like 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 forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, I heard that he was shot
What's beef? is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, 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
it's 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 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 tops that make your stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD
I'm like Elvis in there, they 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 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, tell him that is back
I'm still by your side, no who comes strapped
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about 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 ready? go
them off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas said was he had a ??
Now the eulogy, beef 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 captain with plans of getting me
Even bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm
Then I go back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you sleeping in that vest 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 Bridge
Now your career is over, is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, the phony NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your is boring
Take shit off ??, go back to PC
And 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery
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 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 lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at
He freestyled the pen, that's just the fact
he'd put you with your 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 from the beginning I couldn't those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike
The underground is mine, I it like home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
And I'm far from but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the the shit moving
'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and
And I beef with any nigga, say my 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 shits out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the Whoo Kid
We see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask police to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods, gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop
NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his
him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For off niggaz 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 cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant
Not the instant
I mean the machine that use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your just 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 gorilla
on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell 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 muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a 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 with the Aryans your ass will
And your cell mate is a 25 to
They will you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept for yourself
stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the
Gun smoking, Fase I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic,
cops 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, that New cab
Who's fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac who you got?
We tired 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 with Vivica, three after wanksta
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same wanna take us to the Candy Shop
man, what happened to the thug?
Now you find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
Nigga got mad when The start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into slugs
talking about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm
I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear G-Unit shoes
want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit and wait
To be gone, so I can head 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
in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord givth, if Lord it away
So I a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait 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
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to
'cause I'm a nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them going into 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 to reality, my gun and my vest
And if are forever, then I'm Kanye West
a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou break 'em
And the flow is hot that wit Satan
And the thing I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, where I take 'em
Compton meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, call ??
'cause they heard about what 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 in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, ??
50 in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my
Hip-Hop police on me I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was
Doug E. Fresh and Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to I can't because
I'm in the politican, Impala ??
And I keep a .45 on the side of my prada denim
on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously 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 I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so motherfucker move
While I do B.I.G. and impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody hats
We miss y'all, can I get a clap?
Now to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you
They won't know hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my
nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating
And you don't want that David 'cause you love your
Get my Vibe, when it's war he out butter knifes
Muthafucker show you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and your little flow
Then he made you temporary for Yayo
You a bitch, and hard to swallow
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 we was G-Unit
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 panties drop, when I run inside the 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 beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy he hot
in store November, nigga 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 the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was
Now it's motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, in peace
You want war nigga, you want peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable,
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with
And I slipped 'em the ace, you replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I 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 on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it
This is crack music, go get the soda
300 Bars and Runnin, the wait is over
I'm gone...