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Game - 300bars n runnin


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Out of all the G Unit diss songs, I think I like Fat Joe's the best, it was short and to the point:"I see Michael Jordan in the 'hood more than I see you", The Game did have a few good punchlines in there but it was too long, quality's better than quanity, regardless G Unit's getting burned pretty bad right now!

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I screwed up somehow, so I'm just gonna get it fully, again. The parts that I heard were cool. I like how it was mixed. He had some nice shots at them. He should've threw in the whole mention of the beef being "squashed" just to sell 50's record. That would've been full belief towards this, and that would've stopped 50's career. (a lot of us desire to see that)

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I don't like The Game at all, tho' i don't think "Dreams" is that bad of a song. But waz this done back during their staged fued? Right b4 The Game's mixtape came out? I waz just wondering if it's from back then or if it's new.

One things 4 sure, u know your staged feud leaves u looking stupid when Mariah Carey makes fun of u...ha ha.

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I said I doubt this Game song could be as dope as "Rapper's Delight", Game's just sayin' how much of a thug he is, that ain't what a battle should be about,  I couldn't find the lyrics to "300 bars and Running" but I found lyrics to "200 Bars and Running" and I notice that most of those lines weren't even a diss to G Unit as I expected, it's just dragged out too far, this is nowhere near as good as "Ether", well check the lyrics


[The Game talking]

What the **** is all this noise?

He from Cali he can't rap

He ain't better than this nigga

That's my favorite artist

**** y'all hear the breakdown

[Verse 1: The Game]

No detox I'm comfortable dog

Like the solo Reeboks right up under me dog

And it feel like I done it before

Sit in the throne pollutin the airwaves like a hummer exhaust

Don't let Makavelli fool you homey thuggin it costs

Pour out a little liquor for the loved ones that we lost

You ain't gotta wait for the album I don't **** with The Source

But I turn up my Eazy-E and let it bump in the Porsche

I mean turn up my B.I.G. and let it bump in the Porsche

Tell 'em to roll red carpet when he come in New York

Hip-hop police on me think they runnin New York

Till I lace my and1 show 'em how to run in New York

They tryin to take me downtown put me under the court

Cuz Joe Buddens told 'em I carry a gun New York

And homey that's strictly fact he got ripped on wax

So he snitched just to get me back

No matter what you say dog your **** be whack

You better watch what you say it might get you clapped

Here's a little advice homey switch your raps

Cuz that **** on your last album ain't get you plat's

What nigga you need a gun? I'll get you that

P-89 nigga let Dre stitch you back

??? Industry niggaz I'll admit to that

But I don't even want your chain I'll let the Crips do that

12 bars for that bitch he won't live through that

Even a nigga with a ten-year bid knew that

Put a gun in his mouth yeah, yeah do that

He a pussy (sniff, sniff) his own kid knew that

I'm +Ready To Die+ B.I.G knew that

He ain't eatin look at his white tee you could see his ribs through that

You cocksucker let your ears do that

Or ride later do me ooh wee now back to rap

2 Lincoln continentals sittin back to back

Leavin Jersey City naw nigga Hackensack

Where's that somewhere where the crackers at

Real far from where the roaches and rats is at

Come to Compton I'll show you where the racquet's at

Down the street from the staples centers where they hack-a-shack

Give the advance money back I am not have to rap

Break Harry-O out tell him crack is back

That's nine five a bird take half of that

Import it, export it in cracker jacks

When you get to the projects ask for Black

You know what you started with give him half of that

He gon give you 50 g's in a plastic sack

And i'mma gives you 3500 cash for that

Gotta keep your mouth closed or i'mma blast the Mack

They won't believe you the whole world know that bastard rap

Once you outta the throne you can't have it back

Retirement home and ain't nothing after that

Except you layin in a casket black

Suit on you can't go to heaven with timberland boots on

No subliminals I ain't talkin to you Shawn

I'm talkin to that heartless mouse with no jewels on

Who the **** put you on

Faggot ass nigga let men toss his salad like croutons

I **** with Fab get my DJ Clue on

Sit inside Hot 97 with no tools on

And it don't matter is it's Sway or KaySlay

Angie Martinez I'll take 'em back to k-day

They act like they forgot about Dre-day

I don't rap for Free that's why they fired AJ

It's me leaking through your stereo

Envy me is a emcee prepare for your burial

I kill niggaz without lettin the Desert blow

Razor tongue and I'm far from Haitian son

All black like the range rover wheels

niggaz whisper around The Game like The Game won't kill

Let me show you the stars take you back to the car

Rewind time march 3, 1994

I was only in my teen's deuce-deuce in my Levi's

When Nas hit the scene I was still rockin knee-highs

Runnin with my brother phase he was seventeen

Two guns in the upper waist so we hit the block

Saw niggaz from a rival gang bumpin Dre

Ran up on the '64 and that's all she wrote

We runnin through the alley like Bishop chasin ? Ass

First murder and I did that without a mask

Fast-forward see Game gettin out a Jag

Two peeps shoot on he still got his rag

Gangbangin forever he still got his swag

Let me catch you in Los Angeles without a pass

Everybody in New York know that you a fag

Come out the closet show the world how to use a pad

Speakin death on my red bandana

Naw he couldn't have said that so I raised my antennas

Look at my Nextel got a call from Santana

That nigga a pussy we just saw him in Atlanta

So I hopped on the first thing smokin to Atlanta

Pulled up at 112 ran up on that black phantom

Security hopped out no Joe in here

Just Outkast gettin ready for a show in here

So I uncocked the .44 hopped in the cherry 'lo-lo

Chrome grill with the G-Unit logo

We watched Hov go now the world waitin for my solo

I'm the man Stat Quo know

I ain't gotta explain even Bo know

Have of these rap niggaz is faker than rolls gold

Get hit in the face with the back of the .44

And pissed on tryin to play The Game with a broke nose

My bitch harder than you yeah Vita loco

I haven't sold one record got rap in a chokehold

I'm Dre certified like the leader of the band

Run up you sure to die I'll leave you where you stand

Smurf-ette runnin around New York like he the man

But he peed in his pants

When he saw us at Summer Jam

Lucky I wasn't there I had to bury my man

Or I would've terrorized New York like the Son Of Sam

What you mean terrorize New York?

I mean expose these pussy ass niggaz like I'm Too Short

Somebody tell Domination I'll leave 'em in parts

leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head buried in Central Park

He can't walk through New York no more like john Storch

Gotta call cuz i'mma break his ankles like Hot-Sauce

Ask niggaz from your hood I'm thorough like 5 boroughs

Sit on any stoop ? In the thermo

Wait till Alpo come home

Like AZ from Harlem Dre gon pay me regardless

Cuz he know Jay-Z departed

And these other rap labels know don't feed they artists

Talkin blueprint **** you got three garages

Gettin money off Roc like little E and carter

Showin off your little chain like these is flawless

Send him 50 cent a day I can see he starvin

I got R&B bitches givin me ménage's

Deep massages I could hear Eazy talkin

Tellin me to have a seat in Tamika's office

Buy Ruthless and get Lil' E involved in

Promote without that magazine in Boston

Take a couple mil make Beans a offer

Give him money we don't see that often

But it was all a dream like I seen Memph Bleek in Marcy

I ain't say you won't see Bleek in Marcy

I said my said he won't see Bleek in Marcy

I'm from Compton where niggaz used to bleed for barklies

Drive lo-lo's and we ain't need keys to start 'em

Just a little information for your summer vacation

Bring your chain cuz every nigga in L.A. waitin

Mad cuz Detroit beat the **** out the Lakers

And they'll kill you cuz Joe can't find Gary Payton

Meanwhile the throne vacant and Da Band ain't makin it

Shyne got a new deal, Def Jam gotta pay us

Ray Roy Jones got knocked out shortly after they weighed him in

niggaz got beef with G-Unit but ain't sayin ****

Quiet as a church on Tuesdays

Niggaz say they hate my music but my alerts only two ways

Nigga I'm a hazard like Michael Jackson in khakis

Touch kids but I do that with a semi-automatic

With or without traffic I pull my **** out and blast it

I'm blind to the masses like Stevie wonder without glasses

I'm a savage spit murder like a .38 Magnum

16 bars of baggum let the hook toe tag 'em

Murder any MC throw 'em in that white wagon

Let him die and come back look at 'em he white flaggin

Spreadin rumors like when I see Game I might jack 'em

I'm tellin the world he reach for my chain I might clap 'em

Cuz niggaz shot me in 2001

Took one in the heart cuz I was too proud to run

The clip was empty when the police found my gun

So I don't bring that gangbangin **** around my son

Nigga 50 took 9 he know how it feel

And I found out Buck got shot up in CaShville

And Sha Money told me Lloyd Banks got hit

And Yayo just came home G-G-G-Unit

Backstage at a D-12 concert

A fan asked me how it feel to be walkin in Snoop's converse

Niggaz show me love when they see me in the streets

But they frown when I don't wanna hear none of they beats

Nigga this **** crazy

Em said some **** when was 16 now they tryin to warn Slim Shady

I forgive him I got problems of my own

How you think the streets gon' act know that Suge home

These niggaz is birds I can see the feathers on 'em

If Doc give me the word I put this Berretta on him

When the beef is on my piece is on

Them white sheets is on 'em Doc breathin on 'em

And I got an extra clip in my Reeboks

Cuz I'm in and out my socks every time I see cops

Game got the streets locked call 9-1-1

Get the whole ****in LAPD shot

Niggaz snitchin to the street cops

Get your nephews and your niece shot

With my heat cocked in the beach stop

Nigga witta attitude like a heard Dr. Dre doin Detox

Niggaz fightin for the throne that ain't ****

Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the shoe won't fit

Niggaz might think I'm ridin dick

Cuz I let the cemetery puttin creases in my G-Unit's

Tryin to talk Jesus Christ into lettin me dig 'em up

So they could stand side by side again and live it up

This might be the last time you hear me biggin 'em up

With suicidal thoughts bangin me and my bitch in the truck

My conscience tellin me if I put the clip in the buck

It might be loud enough to wake B.I.G and them up

What if that was P. Diddy sittin in the truck

And 2Pac was in jail the day you called to hit him up

I wouldn't be outside 40/40 bumpin 'Jigga What'

Wouldn't be sign to Dr. Dre I wonder is its luck

They got me on MTV with Banks, Fifth, and Buck

I ain't tryin to be L.A.'s king he carry a pimp cup

[The Game talking]

Snoop Dogg got the crown nigga

What the **** y'all mad at me for

I ain't sold one ****in record

I'm just tryin to use these 200 bars to feed my family nigga

I ain't no threat

I can't rap I'm from Compton remember

You gotta be out your mother****in mind

Ask KaySlay, ask Clue, ask Whoo Kid, ask Funk Flex

I'll murder anyone of you mother****in



THAT'S fake. it's not the real lyrics...

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Yeah that's "200 bars and running", u mean "300 bars and running" is totally different from "200 bars and running"? Did somebody on the internet actually wrote this? Well whoever wrote that has some skills, although I think I could write something better. :lolsign: I figured it was just an extension of "200 bars and running" but damn this dude's putting too much energy into dissing wack rappers, he should spend more time in trying to make a good album instead, I'm not gonna waste time to listen to 15 minutes of Game rapping unless I need something to make me sleep. If you could find the lyrics to Game's "300 bars and running" post them here, I only wanna see the lyrics.

Edited by bigted
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Yeah, some parts are in it, that with makavelli, and some other bars, but i could only count to like 5,6 bars that are real, rest is fake.

I'll try to find the lyrics soon.

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I think it'd be better if everyone 50 Cent dissed on "Piggy Bank" did a track together rather than doing these tracks seperately and make a video dissing G Unit, it could be a posse track going back and forth like when LL Cool J, Prodigy, Foxy Brown, Fat Joe, and Keith Murray did the "I Shot Ya" remix. Nas, Game, Fat Joe, Jadakiss, with Kelis on the hook(she could make fun of Olivia, lol) would put an end to G Unit in my opinion.

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For the peeps who have been looking for the lyrics..here they are! I found them on the Nas board!



My mama took me to Sam Goody's

I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD

I took that **** home

That **** was wack like a mutha*****

I **** 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


I went down one of them Bodaga **** right there in Harlem

Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD

Took that **** home, put it in my boom box

Thought I was bout to be on some radio Raheim ****

Man that **** sound like some Vanessa Williams '88

I mean Olivia cute but they say that ***** a man

So this Black Wallstreet for life now



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 ***** 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 ****** that rapped in Philly?

See them ****** 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 **** on my back

Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap

It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap

Bring hell to ****** 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

**** 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

****** running their mouth about what the **** 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 ***** 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 **** 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

***** 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 **** 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 ***** saying my name like Mike Jones

The underground is mine, I treat it like home

It's the reason ***** saying my name like Mike Jones

The underground is mine, I treat it like home

It's the reason ***** saying my name like Mike Jones

I said

The underground is mine, I treat it like home

It's the reason ***** 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 **** 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 ********** 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 **** 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 **** with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake

For caking off ***** 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

*****es only feel your **** just a lil bit

****** only feel your **** just a lil bit

On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit

Only on two songs, now back to some killer ****

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 **** 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 **** 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

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 ****, 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

***** 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 **** 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 ******* 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 ******* 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 **** 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

********** 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 *****, 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 **** 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 ****

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

**** 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, ***** **** 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 **** the world, on my victory lap

Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek

Now it's whoever ********, yeah, who want beef?

Now whenever *********, 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 ***** 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

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