Текст, перевод и аккорды “Bars and Running”
- [The Game talking] What the fuck is all this noise? He from Cali he can't rap He ain't better than this nigga That's my favorite artist Fuck 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 fuck 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 shit be whack You better watch what you say it might get you clapped Here's a little advice homey switch your raps Cuz that shit 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 fuck put you on Faggot ass nigga let men toss his salad like croutons I fuck 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
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