360 Bars Lyrics

Hey, Skee, tell 'em I'm goin' away for a while (A Million) Motherfukka's wanna see me dead

(A Million) Motherfukka's wanna see me in the fed's

(A Million) Bitches wanna give me head

(A Million) Dollars in my bank account

(A Million) Soundscan the first week out

(A Million) Motherfukka's on my dick

(A Million) Motherfukka's talking shyt



Here to break down...

I'm the king, and you better respect it

All I need is Beyonce, and a Roc-a-fella necklace

Nigga you can "check up on it", I'm a Slim Thug

Cincinnati fitted, wit the red and black brim blood

Gave nigga's 300 bars, two mixtapes, and a DVD

I did it for the C.P.T.

Did it for New York, did it for Chi-town

Ran through hip-hop, and made these nigga's lie down



I'm going away for awhile, call it a California vacation

I call it a Bentley with a smile

GOD bless the child, wit incredible style

Nigga sicker than West Nile, who king of the West now

I'm putting my vest down, nigga's ain't going to kill shit

Shut the fuck up, nigga you ain't going to kill shit

Rappers don't kill rappers, guns kill rappers

And I be wit real crips, real bloods, real clappers



Fuck rap, these nigga's will push ya grill backwards

Faster than Iraqis when Bush attacking

My flow semi-automatic, blhow

Touching pussies is my job, you a bitch, this is sexual harrassment

Nigga get a lawyer, when 'The Game' coming for ya

My jab, like Zab on the chin of De La Hoya

I'm the golden boy, and I'm making Hova noise

Got the whole world clapping, just like the Nolia Boys



Since a juvenile, I had to prove my style

When from Kayslay to DJ Clue, and blhow

20 Magazine covers, nigga look at me now

You need a hot 16?.. I need 100 thou

Cause half of these rap nigga's just be running they mouth

The other half, in the ATL runnin' the south

10 Mill in the bank, 7 bedroom house

I'm rich, so on my 30th birthday I'm out

Nigga, I'm so ahead of time, and I spit better lines

Better rhymes everytime, nigga's hate on me so much, I feel like I'm Kevin Federline



Fuckin' 'em rich, for nothing, tell the media to get off of my dick

You wit me, my next album going to sell like Brittney

I beat on these rap nigga's like Bobby do Whitney

No more drama, no more beef wit 50

And if you just tuning in, welcome to the 360 (welcome to the 360, welcome to the 360)

Right back where I started, in Compton, taking out the garbage

Where Crips and Bloods shoot it out like Pearl Harbor



That was '95, when Cube was in his prime

You brought yo Lethal Injection, and I brought mine

Rewind to '89, got my first mixtape

My brother brought it for me, they use to call him Big Fase

But now, we ain't brothers, nigga we ain't shit

And you living in my shadow like Marcus Vick

And I heard about yo little rappers talking shit

Stay out my family bidnezz, or you get a call from Quik



I ain't change, same nigga that got off them bricks

Got signed to Dr.Dre cause his bars is sick

Getting head on the road, cause his cars is sick

And he whop so good, I had to pause this shit

I told 'em bomp, slow down baby

Got to get this shit firm like Foxy, Nas and AZ

She said 'fuck you, pay me'

So I left her in AZ

That's what I get for letting her listen to my Jay-Z



Fuck a bitch, give me a 40, I'll take that

Dressed up for the grammy's, but I still don't drive maybach's

Nigga I'm gangster, and homey don't play dat

Stand way back, or get ya ass clapped ASAP

Nigga this the payback, you want beef.. say that

I'll have a hundred hurricane hoodies where you lay at

Get yo whole clique wet, making up crip sets

Nigga got ran outta New York by Dipset



Then he got ran out of Compton by my set

Banned from Watts, can't even walk through his projects

Nigga so lame, talking he gangbang

Won't bust a shot, and the nigga know where I hang

I'm Big Daddy Kane, and the platinum chain

The fact remains, the game don't rap for fame

Game rap for fun, Game blast his gun

the game gotta rap in tongue, so that bastards done



Be easy, I might give you a pass this once

I'm ready to die, but I don't want a bastard son

Nigga, I rap too good, and I'm back in the hood

On the same couch, I put my demo in a package for Suge

After one meeting, I was right back in the hood

Red bandana hanging, selling crack in the hood

Now it's, Aftermath for good...

Any nigga mention Dre, get a Desert Eagle shoved in his fucking face

How that taste?

Blow yo shit out fa'real



Call Nelly or Paul Wall, tell 'em make you a grill

I cook beef, like a steak on a grill

Got the clipse on hold, but I ain't Pharrell

Nigga I'm fa'real.. my flow ill, like smoke in ya lungs

i spit sharp like a razorblade under my tongue

Nigga, I'm number one, motherfukka bar none

Who else kick knowlegde outside of Hova and the God Son

We can go bar for bar, cocksucker drop something

Watch me Take Flight like Tom Cruise in Top Gun



You might win some, but you just lost one

I beat on these lil nigga's like Dr. Dre drums

Look at these motherfukka's trying to prove theyselves

Thinking beefing wit hurricane going to boost they sales

Never that, motherfukka, I'm a clever cat

Kanye West in slacks, nigga, I'm as fresh as that

Ask Dre, ask Snoop, I'm nice

I'm Cube, I'm Jacob, I put rappers on "Ice"



Eh skee let me ask you a question

If you take the 120 bars, put it with the 240 bars

Then add the 360 bars, wit one Kevin Federline, what you get?

(A Million) Haha.. lets get the fuck outta here man..

Go find something to do.