Luyện nghe bài hát 300 Bars & Running

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

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

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

[The
300 and Runnin
loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the
Hollow fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova he sober
Like I'm the president, but this the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your a little 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 to shoot back
Defending his yard, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison
everybody sleep through 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
say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the leave you wrapped in Philly
dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
?? Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to
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, when I that he was shot
What's Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Labels signing things, still searching for they Pac
I put on the block
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 me, but now the cops the only homies he got
it's 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 hoping I fall, hope the stop
And I hope you black out you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar
So I got my hot tops make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and spot
I picked up where my Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the on my back
Sprayed on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let rap
Bring hell to niggaz Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the back
Call Jadakiss, tell him duke is back
I'm still by side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's when the ?? clap, is rufus back
I see what you thinkin, you me to die, is that so?
Now you leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? go
Drop them off, then the sound Esko
I'm a say ?? if me and Dre
All Nas back was he had a ??
Now the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about the fuck they gon' do to me
But the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon'
I'm 10 years than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop
How you gon' Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make calls
1-800-split a nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Bridge
Now career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the
T-O-N-Y, that's the phony
You ain't the talk of New York, your is boring
Take shit off ??, go back to PC
And tell 50 you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks after me
I'm a G-Unit toy
On Sesame street voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his
like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna some lines
the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make 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 your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those
I'd kill 'em all, if I bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I it like home
It's the reason saying my name like Mike Jones
I
The underground is mine, I treat it home
the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they think I could do it
Came two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre it, that boy hot like summer
?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
And I beef any nigga, say my name motherfuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you it
I'll air you out on King, Mike, or Clue
And them shits 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 with bruised
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking you did
Get a gun or ask 50's to use his
'cause gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that 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, ain't for him to say
Took me off my own songs, put it on his tapes
So I'ma him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him for the jakes
when you fucking with 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, run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. replay
Not the replay
I mean the machine that use every time 50 on stage singing like
only for your shit just a lil bit
Niggaz only for your just a lil bit
On my 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some shit
My bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
Beating on your chest, I see to death, yep
Tell Ecko to him a suit
Tell Reebock to make him boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his
He a dead man for he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a Man
So the lieutenant ask for his strings
my advice, never wear air max for the ??
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a king
if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you then ?? then fuck you on
And Goes On
Now back to the of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept for yourself
Nigga stop acting tough I stand over you
Show you how The live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting ass to the last one
Ten shots the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase 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 cops on my left, but I 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, 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 fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake,
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't
If he ain't 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 ain't 50 Cent, he out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months after
Get or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the
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 throwing slugs
Olivia talking we a family, Game had to go
Nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm
'cause I don't be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your shoes
want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit 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 on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass it
say the Lord givth, if Lord 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 Jayceon to 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 too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the
Similar to them shells going my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he them into granades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got
Like I my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now to reality, my gun and my vest
And if are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet
Whole got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is
The I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch 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 with 50
Now tell me do he got a
I think not, 'cause if he did I be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this
I'd rather be pushing rock, ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles
finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop on me like I'm the convict
happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like
Now that ain't common, it's like Top Ramen
The flow is news, I throw it up like
And I still shine diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I like Rodman
It's Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I because
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, blow a thou like my wallet missing
Then like kid before the d-cup
Continuously getting with my feet up
Chasing the throne, my black Air Force
I fuck 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
I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, remove hats
We miss y'all, can I get a hand
Now back to rap, why I gotta strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, you ASAP
They know which hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's for payback
It go, how you from but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last
Buck, buck, buck from my
This nigga playing with his life, I might to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the
for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David you love your life
Get my Vibe, when war he pull out butter knifes
Muthafucker I'ma you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the
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 little flow
Then he made you temporary for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's to swallow
And you got robbed for spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it
He had the in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that
Ask C-Murder, the boy hard to find
I Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one 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 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, nigga fuck
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 fuck the world, on my lap
Remember first it was Buddens, it was Bleek
Now it's motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in
You don't war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, (sp?)
Let 'em rest in
From to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with
And I 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If ever decide to return, I remain 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 world on my
Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can me from taking it over
is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone...