[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 muthafuckaDon't Fuck With Game[Lil' Kid Voice]I 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 in '88I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a manSo this Black Wallstreet for life nowGGG-UNOT![The Game]300 Bars and Runnin (New Jersey Devil)Just loan me your ears for 15 minutesWalk with me

Said 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 niggas saying my name like Mike JonesThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt's the reason niggas saying my name like Mike JonesThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt's the reason niggas saying my name like Mike JonesI saidThe underground is mine, I treat it like homeIt's the reason niggas 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 feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and RunninAnd I beef with any nigga, say my name muthafuck 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 niggas 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 replay

The flow is news, I throw it up like vomitAnd I still shine like diamondsThey kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like RodmanIt's still Aftermath, two feet in the pentionI be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't becauseI'm in the hood politican, Impala liftinAnd I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denimChip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prisonDollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missingThen re-up like kim before the d-cupContinuously getting money with my feet upChasing the throne, here my black Air ForceI said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The SourceFeel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill meBut you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move backWhile I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracksWhen I wake the dead, everybody remove hatsWe 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 ASAPThey won't know which hole to patch up, when the K clapI tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for paybackIt go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?Say my name now that's your fucking ass niggaKept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass niggaNow I gotta lay you down like the last niggaBuck, buck, buck from my AK-47This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heavenTryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereoPrepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-OAnd you don't want that David cuz you love your lifeGet my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifesMuthafucka I'ma show you who the gangstaAll you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha RowJuve left you for dead and went back to the N-O50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flowThen he made you temporary replacement for YayoYou a bitch, and that's hard to swallowAnd you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in ChicagoI call my nigga Jojo to get it backHe had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacksPicture that, I thought we was G-UnitThen you ran and told 50 that I did that shitAsk C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to findI told Monica when I catch him The Boy is MineTake one shot of Brandy and popWatch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy ShopFuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the copsAnd Olivia, I mean for a man she hotNow I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxedGot 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rockDon't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot

Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hotHurricanes in store November, nigga fuck ReeboksI'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree topThe new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots280 in, ain't no getting me backI'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lapRemember first it was Buddens, then it was BleekNow it's whoever muthafucka, yeah, who want beef?Now whenever muthafucka, who wanna see me?In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peaceYou don't want war nigga, you want peaceSo give 'em the peace, capiche?Let 'em rest in peaceFrom west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacableLyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with SatanAnd I slipped 'em the ace, so you cannot replace 'emIf Eazy ever decide to return, I remain JayceonA king in the making, and the throne is for the takingSo I climb the mountain top and put my stake inGot the weight of the world on my shoulderNot a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it overThis is crack music, go get the baking soda300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is overI'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone[The Game]That's Lloyd Bank's mama singin,you better tell your boy to keep his mouth closedor he's gonna get a black tux,and a free wait.How my bow tie lookin,ready? Let's go!When i see Lloyd Bank's its going down,if you in the car with him you better get down.Automatic rifle and im blastin on sight so ski mask im psycho,my gun got a night scope

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