The Game - 300 Bars 'n Runnin' (Lyrics)
Vad jag har sett så har inte (rätt) lyrics kommit upp till den här låten, så jag tänkte bara dela med mig av dom dårå..
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 niggaz 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 nigga 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 niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz 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 niggaz 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