Текст песни The Game - 300 Bars & Runnin`, слова песни The Game

Текст песни The Game - 300 Bars & Runnin`

The Game - 300 Bars & Runnin` слова песни

* we don`t normally accept mixtape lyrics, but this one is big** please send all corrections to the typist[Intro]My mama took me to Sam Goody`sI wanted to buy a 50 Cent CDI took that shit homeThat shit was wack like a motherfuckerDon`t fuck with GameI like 50 CentHe reminds me SpongebobAnd Tony Yayo is Blues CluesAnd Lloyd Banks is Dora the ExplorerThey`re my friendsPsycheI went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in HarlemGot me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CDTook that shit home, put it in my boom boxThought I was bout to be on some radio Raheim shitMan that shit sound like some Vanessa Williams `88I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a manSo this Black Wallstreet for life nowGGG-UNOT![The Game]300 Bars and RunninJust loan me your ears for 15 minutesWalk with meHere the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holsterHollow tips`ll fold `em, them niggaz they toy soldiersOh, that boy colder than Hova unless he soberLike I`m the president, but this ain`t the takeoverNow, there`s the speaker, bring your ears a little closerBefore you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissedWhy would I wanna do that? When I`m just the new catThat was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot backDefending his yard, yeah standing his groundI`m saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crownNah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison squareWatch everybody sleep through itWe can go bar for bar, I`ll let the lines speak to `emWhat they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do itThey say the wrong thing, I`ma smack `em sillyWhat you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in PhillyThen dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly??? said Curtis Jack in PhillyMake a U-turn, I gotta go back to PhillyI forgot my cheese stake, that`s what I told the copsSo they wouldn`t get the dogs start searching for the glockAnd I can`t forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the copsEven I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shotWhat`s beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spotLabels signing many things, still searching for they PacI put purple on the blockSo I don`t feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spotAsk 50, it get lonely on topYou can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he gotWhen it`s beef we eat, we win, but we ain`t lonely we popYou sell records but a GGG-u not!Acting big on the radio, to me you notYou can ask Mr. CCC who hotTony Yayo I bet 10 G`s you flopRun up on that new 300 C you gotStop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stopAnd I hope you black out before you see the copsI ain`t hot top for colors, I`m from Cedar BlockSo I got my hot tops that make your breathing stopI`m a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shopI`m like Elvis in there, they can`t believe you droppedNow I`m moving on up to George and Weezy`s spotI picked up where my homeboy Eazy stoppedI saw the west coast, put the shit on my backSprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strapIt get hot in here, let Lucifer rapBring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a trackTake it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hatThen call up the pigs, tell them the rooster`s backCall Jadakiss, tell him that duke is backI`m still by your side, no matter who comes strappedFuck Lloyd Banks, it ain`t about who can rapIt`s about when the ??? clap, is rufus backI see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat JoeWe got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let`s goDrop them off, then the sound like EskoI`m a say ??? if me and Dre talkAll Nas said back was he had a ???Now that`s the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish seeNiggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon` do to meBut quit the yapping before I proceed to clappingAnd you gon` see the captain with plans of getting me capturedEven behind bars, I`m still gon` shineI`m 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I`m fineThen I go right back, nigga I pop minesHow you gon` drop Olivia, you only drop dimesI knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dogI don`t need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls1-800-split a faggot nigga wigHe got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens BridgeNow your career is over, career is overWe in QB, banging CNN in the roverT-O-N-Y, that`s the phony NOREYou ain`t the talk of New York, your sixteens is boringTake that shit off ???, go back to PCAnd tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3I`m airing their ass out on DVDYou wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after meI`m a G-Unit toy soldierOn Sesame street doing voice oversBitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his linesSound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymesWe was in the studio, when I first got signedHe got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some linesThat`s the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymesAll he gon` tell you is say G-Unit one more timeGot mad cuz I ain`t wanna make your beef mineYou got lucky with Ja, why you ain`t go at Shyne?He freestyled from the pen, that`s just the factSaid he`d put you with your mom, and you ain`t fucked with thatThen you lied about your pops, he ain`t never bust no capLike Father, Like Son, go ask Busta thatI knew from the beginning I couldn`t trust those catsI`d kill `em all, if I could bring Justo backThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt`s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike JonesThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt`s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike JonesThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt`s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike JonesI saidThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt`s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike JonesAnd I`m far from Houston but you can chop it and screw itDo whatever to it, but it in the store the shit movingGave `em a hundred bars, they ain`t think I could do itCame with two hundred, nigga this is more than musicEven Dre knew it, that boy hot like summerBoth ??? in the dirt, 300 Bars and RunninAnd I beef with any nigga, say my name motherfuck I`m gunnin`You can put it on skee if you want itI`ll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or ClueAnd watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoeI told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo KidWe gon` see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribsDon`t hit me on the sidekick asking what you didGet a gun or ask 50`s police to use hisCuz Bloods gonna get yaBloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chainThat 380 spill brains, when I pop shotsOutside NY, in front of hip-hop copsOr broad day in L.A., I`ma tell Em and DreThis nigga bootlegging my music, ain`t nothing for him to sayTook me off my own songs, then put it on his tapesSo I`ma take him out his house, put the beam on his faceDrop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakesCuz when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lakeFor caking off niggaz on them CD`s and tapesAsk them to scratch a record, you will see he fakeIf 50 was Puffy, you`d run and go get him a cheese cakeTake the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replayNot the instant replayI mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing likeBitches only for your shit just a lil bitNiggaz only for your shit just a lil bitOn my album 50 helped me just a lil bitOnly on two songs, now back to some killer shitMy clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quickBeating on your chest, I see to your death, yepTell Ecko to make him a suitTell Reebock to make him some bootsGet him a head band, to cover the holes in his headHe a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like RedmanBanks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D ManSo the lieutenant gotta ask for his stringsTake my advice, never wear air max for the ???Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin kingCuz if your left with the Aryans your ass will stingAnd your cell mate is a 25 to liferThey will stab you then ??? then fuck you on RikersAnd Life Goes OnNow back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songsHe told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelfSo he gave me all his hits, you should`ve kept them for yourselfNigga stop acting tough before I stand over youShow you how The Documentary live on top of The MassacreMake a move I`m blasting your ass to the last oneTen shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passengerFase yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him upThrow in Makaveli and lift the doors on the MaganumGun smoking, Fase think I`m locin` backing upReverse the `05 hurse on 41st and traffic, whatHip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass `em up

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The Game

300 Bars & Runnin`

Текст песни The Game - 300 Bars & Runnin`

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