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The talking]
What the fuck is all noise?
He from Cali he rap
He ain't better than nigga
That's my artist
y'all hear the breakdown

[Verse 1: The
No I'm comfortable dog
Like the solo right up under me dog
And it feel like I done it
Sit in the throne pollutin the like a hummer exhaust
Don't let MAKAVELI fool you homey it costs
Pour out a little liquor for the loved ones we lost
You ain't wait for the album I don't fuck with The Source
But I turn up my Eazy-E and let it in the Porsche
I turn up my B.I.G. and let it bump in the Porsche
Tell 'em to red carpet when he come in New York
Hip-hop police on me think runnin New York
I lace my and1 show 'em how to run in New York
They to take me downtown put me under the court
'cause Joe told 'em I carry a gun in New York
And homey that's strictly fact he got on wax
So he snitched to get me back
No matter you say dog your shit be whack
You watch what you say it might get you clapped
a little advice homey switch your raps
'cause that shit on your last album ain't get you
What nigga you a gun? I'll get you that
P-89 nigga let Dre stitch you
HE AIN'T A Industry niggaz admit to that
But I don't even want your chain I'll let the do that
12 for that bitch he won't live through that
Even a nigga with a ten-year bid that
Put a gun in his yeah, yeah do that
He a pussy (sniff, sniff) his own kid that
I'm Ready To Die B.I.G that
He ain't eatin look at his white tee you could see his ribs that
You cocksucker let ears do that
Or ride later do me ooh wee now to rap
2 Lincoln continentals sittin to back
Jersey City naw nigga Hackensack
Where's that where the crackers at
far from where the roaches and rats is at
Come to Compton I'll show you where the at
Down the street the staples centers where they hack-a-shack
Give the money back I AIN'T have to rap
Break Harry-O out him crack is back
That's five a bird take half of that
Import it, export it in cracker
you get to the projects ask for Black
You know you started with give him half of that
He gon give you 50 g's in a plastic
And I'm a give you 3500 cash for
Gotta keep your closed or I'm a blast the Mack
They won't you the whole world know that bastard rap
Once you the throne you can't have it back
Retirement home and ain't after that
Except you layin in a black
Suit on you can't go to heaven timberland boots on
No subliminals I ain't talkin to you
I'm to that heartless mouse with no jewels on
Who the put you on
Faggot ass let men toss his salad like croutons
I fuck Fab get my DJ Clue on
Sit inside Hot 97 with no on
And it don't matter IF it's or KaySlay
Angie Martinez I'll take 'em to k-day
They act like they forgot about
I don't rap for Free that's why they AJ
It's me through your stereo
Envy me AS AN prepare for your burial
I kill niggaz without the Desert blow
Razor and I'm far from Haitian son
All black like the range rover
whisper around The Game like The Game won't kill
Let me you the stars take you back to the car
time march 3, 1994
I was in my teen's deuce-deuce in my Levi's
When Nas hit the scene I was still rockin
Runnin with my FASE he was seventeen
Two guns in the upper so we hit the block
Saw niggaz a rival gang bumpin Dre
Ran up on the '64 and that's all she
We runnin through the like Bishop chasin Raheem Ass
murder and I did that without a mask
Fast-forward see Game out a Jag
Two piece suit on he got his rag
Gangbangin forever he got his swag
Let me catch you in Los Angeles a pass
in New York know that you a fag
Come out the show the world how to use a pad
Speakin on my red bandana
Naw he have said that so I raised my antennas
at my Nextel got a call from Santana
That nigga a we just saw him in Atlanta
So I hopped on the first thing to Atlanta
Pulled up at 112 ran up on black phantom
hopped out no Joe in here
Just Outkast gettin ready for a show in
So I uncocked the .44 in the cherry 'lo-lo
Chrome with the G-Unit logo
We Hov go now the world waitin for my solo
I'm the man Stat Quo
I gotta explain even Bo know
Have of these rap niggaz is than rolls gold
Get hit in the with the back of the .44
And on tryin to play The Game with a broke nose
My bitch harder you yeah Vita loco
I haven't sold one got rap in a chokehold
I'm Dre like the leader of the band
Run up you sure to die I'll leave you you stand
runnin around New York like he the man
But he peed in his
he saw us at Summer Jam
Lucky I wasn't there I had to my man
Or I would've terrorized New like the Son Of Sam
What you mean New York?
I mean these pussy ass niggaz like I'm Too Short
Somebody tell Domination leave 'em in parts
leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head buried in Park
He can't walk through New York no like john STARKS
Gotta call 'cause i'mma break his like Hot-Sauce
Ask niggaz from hood I'm thorough IN 5 boroughs
Sit on any stoop ? In the
till Alpo come home
Like AZ from Dre gon pay me regardless
'cause he know Jay-Z
And these other rap labels know don't feed artists
Talkin blueprint shit you got three
Gettin money off Roc little E and carter
Showin off little chain like these is flawless
him 50 cent a day I can see he starvin
I got R&B bitches givin me
Deep massages I could hear talkin
Tellin me to have a seat in office
Buy and get Lil' E involved in
Promote without that magazine in
Take a couple mil Beans a offer
Give him money we don't see that
But it was all a dream like I seen Memph Bleek in
I ain't say you won't see Bleek in
I my said he won't see Bleek in Marcy
I'm from Compton where used to bleed for BARKLEY'S
Drive lo-lo's and we ain't need keys to 'em
Just a information for your summer vacation
Bring chain 'cause every nigga in L.A. waitin
Mad 'cause beat the shit out the Lakers
And they'll you 'cause THEY can't find Gary Payton
Meanwhile the throne and Da Band ain't makin it
got a new deal, Def Jam gotta pay us
PLAYBOY Jones got knocked out shortly after they him in
niggaz got beef G-Unit but ain't sayin shit
Quiet as a church on
Niggaz say they hate my but my alerts ON THEY TWO ways
Nigga I'm a hazard like Michael Jackson in
kids but I do that with a semi-automatic
With or without traffic I my shit out and blast it
I'm blind to the masses like wonder without glasses
I'm a savage spit murder a .38 Magnum
16 of baggum let the hook toe tag 'em
Murder any MC throw 'em in white wagon
Let him die and come look at 'em he white flaggin
Spreadin like when I see Game I might jack 'em
I'm tellin the world he reach for my I might clap 'em
niggaz shot me in 2001
Took one in the heart 'cause I was too to run
The clip was empty the police found my gun
So I don't that gangbangin shit around my son
50 took 9 he know how it feel
And I found out Buck got shot up in
And Sha Money told me Lloyd got hit
And just came home G-G-G-Unit
Backstage at a concert
A fan asked me how it feel to be walkin in converse
Niggaz show me love when they see me in the
But they frown when I wanna hear none of they beats
Nigga shit crazy
Em said some shit when was 16 now tryin to RUIN Slim Shady
I forgive him I got of my own
How you think the streets gon' act know Suge GOT home
These niggaz is I can see the feathers on 'em
If Doc me the word I put this Berretta on EM
When the is on my piece is on
Them sheets is on 'em Doc breathin on 'em
And I got an extra clip in my
'cause I'm in and out my socks every time I see
got the streets locked call 9-1-1
Get the fuckin LAPD shot
snitchin to the street cops
Get your nephews and niece shot
With my heat cocked in the stop
Nigga witta attitude like I heard Dr. Dre doin
Niggaz fightin for the that ain't shit
Tryin to measure the fallin legends but the won't fit
Niggaz might think I'm dick
'cause I'M AT the puttin creases in my G-Unit's
Tryin to TO Jesus Christ into lettin me dig 'em up
So they could stand side by again and live it up
might be the last time you hear me biggin 'em up
With thoughts bangin me and my bitch in the truck
My conscience tellin me if I put the clip in the
It be loud enough to wake B.I.G and them up
What if was P. Diddy sittin in the truck
And 2Pac was in the day HE RECORDED hit him up
I wouldn't be outside bumpin 'Jigga What'
be SIGNED to Dr. Dre I wonder is its luck
They got me on MTV Banks, Fifth, and Buck
I ain't tryin to be L.A.'s king he a pimp cup

[The talking]
Snoop got the crown nigga
What the y'all mad at me for
I ain't sold one fuckin
I'm tryin to use these 200 bars to feed my family nigga
I ain't no
I can't rap I'm from remember
You gotta be out your mind
Ask KaySlay, ask Clue, ask Whoo Kid, ask Funk
I'll murder anyone of you

Ah!

Videos

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200 Bars and Runnin' - The Game
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