Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Runnin'

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

I 50 Cent
He me Spongebob
And Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd is Dora the Explorer
my friends

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

300 and Runnin
Just loan me your ears for 15
with me

Here the breakdown, the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them *****z toy soldiers
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 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
was taught if a ***** take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then me the crown
Nah, let do it, then throw 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 say? Bleek is let Chris and Neef do it
They say the thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only *****z that in Philly?
See *****z with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
I forgot my stake, that's what I told the cops
So wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, still for they Pac
I put purple on the
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the homies he got
When 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 I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out you see the cops
I ain't High Top from Colors, I'm Cedar Block
What i got in my high will make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like in there, they can't believe he dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
I picked up where my homeboy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my
Sprayed Aftermath on it, loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
hell to *****z when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't who can rap
It's about the ruger clap, is rufus back
I see you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
You got reservations in heaven, you ready? go
them off, then pop cristal wit Esko
I'm a say he hit me first, if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a 3-4
Now the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
*****z running their mouth about what the fuck they do to me
But the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me
Even behind bars, I'm still shine
I'm 10 younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
I go right back, ***** I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only dimes
I you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my *****z collect calls
a faggot ***** wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that off lingo, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice
Bitch ass need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse 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 *****, when you need help with rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you aint 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 your pops, he ain't never no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew from the beginning not to those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason *****z my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason *****z saying my name Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike
And I'm far from but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I do it
Came with two hundred, ***** this is more than
Even Dre knew it, boy hot like summer
feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or
And watch them sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I Funk Flex when I catch the ***** Whoo Kid
We see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
'cause Bloods get ya
Bloods Bloods Bloods gonna get ya for 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 for him to say
me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
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 believe in L.A.
For caking off *****z on them CD's and
Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cake
Take the DJ off name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on singing like
Bitches only feel your shit a lil bit
*****z only feel shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me a lil bit
Only on two songs, now to some killa shit
My clips bananas, I kill a quick
Beating on chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a
Tell Reebock to make him 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
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, wear air max for the pen
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
'cause if left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And cell mate is a 25 to lifer
They'll stab you at Folsom fuck you on Rikers
And Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna me on the shelf
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
***** stop acting tough before I over you
Show you how The Documentary on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the one
Ten shots from the Mack 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 think I'm locin' up
Reverse the '05 on 41st 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
this fake *****, on pictures with the Jake *****?
Got his crew starving 'cause he aint 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 talkin who you shot
I'll use six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a
You went out with Vivica, months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same ***** wanna us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the
Now you could in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into slugs
Olivia talking we a family, Game had to go
***** I'll that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'cause I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't be in your group
wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head to the block
Fresh white Nike 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, wiped my ass with it
They say the givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll for the day
*****z hating on me, don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA on Jayceon to make a mistake
So they can put me in the squad 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 ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I the winter to stay
'cause I'm a ***** when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them granades
And Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
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 thou at jacob
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit
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
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, callin all cars
they heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard about Hot 97, my beef 50

Now me do he got a conscience?
I not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd be pushing rock, like Samantha Ronson
50 whispered in my ear, we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just like Charles Bronson
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was
Doug E. Fresh and Daina on the corner like Common
Now ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like
And I shine like diamonds
kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the shit.
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to I can't because
I'm in the politican, Impala liffin'
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
Then like kid before the d-cup
Continuously money with my feet up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two
I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
won't know which hole to patch up, when the K clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for
It go, how you from but you ain't 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 play the game, shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you your life
Get my Vibe, it's war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucka I'ma you who the gangsta
All you do is Inc., now who the wanksta?
Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve you for dead and went back to the NO
50 you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
Then he made you temporary replacement for
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the shit in his hands, and you had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was
you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I told when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy
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 bars to go, lay it like sheet rock
worry about the flow, the boy know 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, ain't no getting me
I'm yelling the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now it's whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want
Now muthafucka, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You want war nigga, you want peace
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 slipped 'em the ace, you replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I 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 nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me taking it over
is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone