[Lyrics] Game - 300 Bars and Runnin'

Discussion in 'Hip-Hop Central' started by !ron HorSe, Jun 30, 2005.

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  1. !ron HorSe

    !ron HorSe New Member

    Joined:
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    [INTRO]
    My mama took me to Sam Goody's
    I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD
    I took that shit home
    That shit was wack like a muthafucka
    Don't fuck with Game

    I like 50 Cent
    He reminds me Spongebob
    And Tony Yayo is Blues Clues
    And Lloyd Banks is Dora the Explorer
    They're my friends
    Psyche

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

    [GAME]
    300 Bars and Runnin
    Just loan me your ears for 15 minutes
    Walk with me

    Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
    Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them *****z they toy soldiers
    Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober
    Like I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
    Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
    Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
    Why would I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
    That was taught if a ***** take shots to shoot back
    Defending his yard, yeah standing his ground
    I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
    Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
    Watch everybody sleep through it
    We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines speak to 'em
    What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
    They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
    What you thought? Them was the only *****z that rapped in Philly?
    See them *****z with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
    Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
    ??? said Curtis Jack in Philly
    Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
    I forgot my cheese stake, that's what I told the cops
    So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
    And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
    Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
    What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
    Labels signing many things, still searching for they Pac
    I put purple on the block
    So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
    Ask 50, it get lonely on top
    You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
    When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
    You sell records but a GGG-u not!
    Acting big on the radio, to me you not
    You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
    Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you flop
    Run up on that new 300 C you got
    Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
    And I hope you black out before you see the cops
    I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar Block
    So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop
    I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop
    I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
    Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's spot
    I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
    I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back
    Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
    It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap
    Bring hell to *****z when Dre producing a track
    Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
    Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
    Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
    I'm still by your side, no matter who comes strapped
    Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
    It's about when the ??? clap, is rufus back
    I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
    Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
    We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let's go
    Drop them off, then the sound like Esko
    I'm a say ??? if me and Dre talk
    All Nas said back was he had a ???
    Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
    *****z running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
    But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping
    And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me captured
    Even behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
    I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
    Then I go right back, ***** I pop mines
    How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
    I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
    I don't need 50 Cent, my *****z make collect calls
    1-800-split a faggot ***** wig
    He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
    Now your career is over, career is over
    We in QB, banging CNN in the rover
    T-O-N-Y, that's the phony NORE
    You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
    Take that shit off ???, go back to PC
    And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
    I'm airing their ass out on DVD
    You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
    I'm a G-Unit toy soldier
    On Sesame street doing voice overs
    Bitch ass ***** need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
    Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
    We was in the studio, when I first got signed
    He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines
    That's the wrong *****, when you need help with your rhymes
    All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more time
    Got mad cuz I ain't wanna make your beef mine
    You got lucky with Ja, why you aint go at Shyne?
    He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact
    Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
    Then you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
    Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
    I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
    I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
    The underground is mine, I treat it like home
    It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
    The underground is mine, I treat it like home
    It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
    The underground is mine, I treat it like home
    It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
    I said
    test
  2. !ron HorSe

    !ron HorSe New Member

    Joined:
    Jan 17, 2004
    Messages:
    17,743
    The underground is mine, I treat it like home
    It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
    And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it
    Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving
    Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
    Came with two hundred, ***** this is more than music
    Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
    Both ??? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
    And I beef with any *****, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
    You can put it on skee if you want it
    I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
    And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
    I told Funk Flex when I catch the ***** Whoo Kid
    We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
    Don't hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
    Get a gun or ask 50's police to use his
    Cuz Bloods gonna get ya
    Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
    That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots
    Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops
    Or broad day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
    This ***** bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
    Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
    So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face
    Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
    Cuz when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
    For caking off *****z on them CD's and tapes
    Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake
    If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese cake
    Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
    Not the instant replay
    I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
    Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit
    *****z only for your shit just a lil bit
    On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit
    Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit
    My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
    Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep
    Tell Ecko to make him a suit
    Tell Reebock to make him some boots
    Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head
    He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
    Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
    So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings
    Take my advice, never wear air max for the ???
    Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
    Cuz if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
    And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer
    They will stab you then ??? then fuck you on Rikers
    And Life Goes On
    Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
    He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
    So he gave 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 Massacre
    Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one
    Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
    Fase yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
    Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
    Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' backing up
    Reverse the '05 hurse on 41st and traffic, what
    Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
    The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
    In and out of lanes like a New York cab
    I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New York cab
    Who's this fake *****, on pictures with the Jake *****?
    Got his crew starving cuz he aint the whole cake, *****
    He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
    If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you got?
    We getting tired of you talkin about who you shot
    I'll use another six bars to tell you who you not
    You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
    You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
    Get Rich or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
    Now the same ***** wanna take us to the Candy Shop
    C'mon man, what happened to the thug?
    Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
    ***** got mad when The Game start buzzing
    So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
    Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go
    ***** I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
    Cuz I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
    I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
    Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
    Just wanna sit here and wait
    To be gone, so I can head back to the block
    Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted
    test
  3. THEDONN- closed

    THEDONN- closed pac and biggie rule 4eva

    Joined:
    Jul 27, 2004
    Messages:
    8,199
    dude whut the fuck, shit been posted, u come to this site alot so u know this, what is the point of this kiddo?
    test
  4. !ron HorSe

    !ron HorSe New Member

    Joined:
    Jan 17, 2004
    Messages:
    17,743
    Pull the brim low, if they don't get it
    Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
    Four times platinum, I done been there and did it
    Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
    They say the Lord givth, if Lord take it away
    So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
    *****z hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
    And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake
    So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
    Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
    Let me out so I can drive down criminal way
    Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
    The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay
    Cuz I'm a cold ***** when I put the pen to the page
    Similar to them shells going into my gauge
    I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into granades
    And Just Blaze, cuz the boy got game
    Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
    Now back to reality, my gun and my vest
    And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West
    Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
    Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
    And the flow is hot like that wit Satan
    And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons
    The hotter I get the more willing to snake 'em
    So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
    Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
    When Game in the house, they call ???
    Cuz they heard about what went on in D.C.
    Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50
    Now tell me do he got a conscience?
    I think not, cuz if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
    Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
    I'd rather be pushing rock, like ???
    50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding
    We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson
    Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
    Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the convict
    What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
    Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
    Now that ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
    The flow is news, I throw it up like vomit
    And I still shine like diamonds
    They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
    It's still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
    I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't because
    I'm in the hood politican, Impala ???
    And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
    Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
    Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
    Then re-up like kid before the d-cup
    Continuously getting money with my feet up
    Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force
    I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
    Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
    But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move back
    While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
    When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
    We miss ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
    Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
    On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
    They won't know which hole to patch up, when the ??? clap
    I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
    It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash *****?
    Say my name now that's your fucking ass *****
    Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass *****
    Now I gotta lay you down like the last *****
    Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47
    This ***** playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
    Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
    Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
    And you don't want that David cuz you love your life
    Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifes
    Muthafucka I'ma show you who the gangsta
    All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?
    When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
    Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO
    50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
    Then he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
    You a bitch, and that's hard to swallow
    And you got robbed 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 stacks
    Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit
    Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
    Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to find
    I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
    Take one shot of Brandy and pop
    Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
    Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
    And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot
    Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxed
    Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock
    Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
    Hurricanes in store November, ***** fuck Reebocks
    I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top
    The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots
    280 in, ain't no getting me back
    I'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap
    Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
    Now it's whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want beef?
    Now whenever muthafucka, who wanna see me?
    In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace
    You don't want war *****, you want peace
    So give 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
    Let 'em rest in peace
    From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
    Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
    And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
    If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
    A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking
    So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in
    Got the weight of the world on my shoulder
    Not a ***** nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it over
    This is crack music, go get the baking soda
    300 Bars and Runnin, ***** the wait is over
    I'm gone
    test
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