The Game - 200 Bars & Runnin' lyrics

[Intro] What the f** is all this noise? He from Cali, he can't rap He ain't better than this n***a That's my favorite artist f** y'all, hear the breakdown.. [Freestyle] 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 Makaveli fool you homie, thugging 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 f** 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 Air1 show 'em how to run in New York They tryin to take me downtown put me under the court Cause Joe Buddens told 'em I carry a gun in 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 sh** be whack You better watch what you say, it might get you clapped Here's a little advice, homie: switch your raps Cause that sh** on your last album ain't get you plat What n***a you need a gun? I'll get you that P-89 n***a let Dre stitch you back It ain't an industry, n***as I admit to that But I don't even want your chain, I'll let the Crips do that 12 bars for that b**h, he won't live through that Even a n***a with a ten year bid knew that Put a gun in his mouth yeah, yeah do that He a p**y (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 co*ks**er, 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 n***a, 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 Center where they Hack-a-Shaq Give the advance money back, I ain't 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 give you 3,500 cash for that Gotta keep your mouth closed or I'mma blast the mac They won't believe you the whole world know that ba*tard rap Once you're out of 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 j**els on Who the f** put you on f*ggot a** n***a let men toss his salad like croutons I f** with Fab, get my DJ Clue on Sit inside Hot 97 with no tools on And it don't matter if it's Sway or Kay Slay Angie Martinez I'll take 'em back to KDAY 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 as an MC, prepare for your burial I k** n***as without lettin' the Desert blow Razor tongue and I'm far from Haitian son All black like the Range Rover wheels n***as whisper around The Game like The Game won't k** Let me show you the stars, take you back to the car Rewind time, March 3, 1994 I was only in my teens, deuce-deuce in my Levi's When Nas hit the scene I was still rockin' knee-highs Runnin' with my brother Fase, he was 17 Two guns in the upper waist, so we hit the block Saw n***as 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' Radames First murder and I did that without a mask Fast-forward, see Game gettin out a Jag Two piece suit on, he still got his rag Gangbangin' forever, he still got his swag Let me catch you in Los Angeles without a pa** Everybody in New York know that you a f*g Come out the closet, show the world how to use a pad Speakin' d**h 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 n***a a p**y, 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 unco*ked the .44 Hopped in the cherry low-low 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 Half of these rap n***as 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 b**h harder than you, yeah Vida loco I ain'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 p**y a** n***as like I'm Too $hort Somebody tell Domination I'll leave him in parts Leg in Jersey, arm in Brooklyn, head buried in Central Park He can't walk through New York no more like John Stark Got a call cause I'm a break his ankles like Hot-Sauce Ask n***as from your hood I'm thorough in 5 boroughs Sit on any stoop, Pelli Tims in the thermal Wait till Alpo come home Like Azie from Harlem, Dre gon' pay me regardless Cause he know Jay-Z departed And these other rap labels know don't feed they artists Talkin blueprint sh** 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 b**hes givin' me ménages Deep ma**ages, I could hear Eazy talkin Tellin me to have a seat in Tomica'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 man told me he don't see Bleek in Marcy I'm from Compton where n***as used to bleed for Barkley's Drive lo-lo's and we ain't need keys to start 'em Just a little information for your summer vacation Bring your chain cause every n***a in L.A. waitin' Mad cause Detroit beat the sh** out the Lakers And they'll k** you cause they 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 Playboy Jones got knocked out shortly after they weighed him in n***as got beef with G-Unit but ain't sayin' sh** Quiet as a church on Tuesdays n***as say they hate my music, but my alert's on they 2-ways n***a 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 sh** out and blast it I'm blind to the ma**es like Stevie Wonder without gla**es I'm a savage spit murder like a .38 Magnum 16 bars'll 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 him" I'm tellin' the world: he reach for my chain, I might clap him Cause n***as shot me in 2001 Took one in the heart cause I was too proud to run The clip was empty when the police found my gun So I don't bring that g**nin' sh** around my son n***a 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 n***as show me love when they see me in the streets But they frown when I don't want to hear none of they beats n***a, this sh** crazy Em said some sh** when was 16, now they tryin to ruin Slim Shady I forgive him, I got problems of my own How you think the streets gon' act now that Suge got home These n***as is birds, I can see the feathers on 'em If Doc give me the word, I put this Berretta on 'em When the beef is on, my piece is on White sheets is on 'em, Doc breathin on 'em And I got an extra clip in my Reeboks Cause I'm in and out my socks every time I see cops Game got the streets locked Call 911, get the whole f**in LAPD shot n***as snitchin' to the street cops Get your nephews and your niece shot When my heat co*ked, then the beat stop n***a with a attitude like I heard Dr. Dre doin' "Detox" n***as fightin' for the throne that ain't sh** Tryin to measure the fallin' legends but the shoe won't fit n***as might think I'm ridin' dick Cause I'm at the cemetery puttin creases in my G-Unit's Tryin to talk to 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 b**h 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 he recorded "Hit 'em Up"? I wouldn't be outside 40/40 bumpin' Jigga What Wouldn't be signed to Dr. Dre, I wonder is it 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 [Outro] Snoop Dogg got the crown, n***a What the f** y'all mad at me for? I ain't sold one f**in' record I'm just tryin' to use these 200 bars to feed my family, n***a I ain't no threat I can't rap, I'm from Compton remember? You gotta be out your motherf**in' mind Ask Kay Slay, ask Clue, ask Whoo Kid, ask Funk Flex I'll murder anyone of you motherf**ers G-G-G-G-Unit