Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

My mama me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 CD
I took that shit
That shit was like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with

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

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

[The
300 and Runnin
Just loan me ears for 15 minutes
Walk 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 this ain't the
Now, the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do that? 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 gonna retire, then hand me the
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a in Madison square
everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the speak to 'em
What they say? is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em
you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the leave you wrapped in Philly
Then in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? said Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go to Philly
I forgot my cheese stake, 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
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was
beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing many things, searching for they Pac
I put on the block
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 the only 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 Yayo I bet 10 G's you
Run up on new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the stop
And I hope you black out before you see the
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Block
So I got my hot tops that make your stop
I'm a slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't you dropped
Now I'm on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the coast, put the shit on my back
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, them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is
I'm by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the ?? clap, is rufus
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got in heaven, you ready? Let's go
Drop off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas said was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is foolish see
Niggaz running 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
Even behind bars, I'm still shine
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then 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 niggaz collect calls
1-800-split a faggot wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Bridge
Now your is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, sixteens is boring
Take shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 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
ass nigga 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 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more
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 fucked that
Then you lied about your pops, he never bust no cap
Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it home
It's the reason niggaz my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
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 chop it and it
Do to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than
Even Dre knew it, boy hot like summer
Both ?? in the dirt, 300 and Runnin
And I beef 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 shits sell out like a Air shoe
I told Funk Flex when I 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 police to use his
'cause gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville
That 380 spill brains, when I pop
Outside NY, in of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., tell Em and Dre
This nigga my music, ain't nothing 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 Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'cause when you with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off on them CD's and tapes
Ask to scratch 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 replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage like
Bitches only for your shit a lil bit
Niggaz for your shit just a lil bit
On my 50 helped 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 to make him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him some
Get him a head band, to cover the in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy 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 your left with the Aryans your ass will
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you then ?? then fuck you on
And Life On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my
He told Vibe Dre was leave me on the shelf
So he me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the one
Ten shots the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling thats enough, let the bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm backing up
Reverse the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic,
cops 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 a New York cab
I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New cab
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the nigga?
Got his crew 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he Cube or Pac then who you got?
We tired of you talkin about who you shot
use another six bars to tell you who you not
You 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Tryin, we you was hot
Now the same wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd hugging
Nigga got mad when The Game start
So fuck friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia about we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack ho like I'm Jackie-O
I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in group
Just wanna sit and wait
To be gone, so I can back to the block
white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if don't get it
Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four platinum, I done been 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, wait for the day
Niggaz hating on me, don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me
me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no Jay
The too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the
Similar to shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into
And Just Blaze, the boy got game
Like I my eyes, and woke 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 wet jacob
Whole crew got chains, a thou can't 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 drop, watch where I take 'em
Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
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 think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, be at this conference
I'd be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, 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 to the old school? 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 like
And I still like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded Rodman
It's Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't
I'm in the hood politican, ??
And I keep a black .45 on the of my prada denim
Chip on my like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, a hundred thou like my wallet missing
re-up like kid before the d-cup
Continuously money with my feet up
the throne, here my black Air Force
I said Benzino and got the cover of The Source
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
I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I stay strapped?
On that T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no nigga?
Say my name now your fucking ass nigga
your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my
This nigga playing with his life, I might to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking up on the stereo
for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't that David 'cause 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 Suge had you, you 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 temporary for Yayo
You a bitch, and hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
Picture that, I we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did 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
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 running out of breath, like I just beat
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet
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 three spots
280 in, ain't no getting me
I'm fuck the world, on my victory 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 peace
So 'em the peace, capiche (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 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 weight of the on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the baking
300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is
I'm gone...