Ja Rule — 300

[Intro: Samples from 300] Daxos: This battle is over, Leonidas Leonidas: Battle is over when I say it is over Stelios: We are with you sire, to the death Leonidas: SPARTANS! PREPARE FOR GLORY! [Verse 1: Ja Rule] DIE MOTHERFUCKER, DIE! That's what I'ma say to him Right before I send him to meet mama and Jesús Them choppers'll pop Through the roof of the Roadster I don't only spit Ether, niggas, I Takeover Like Nas and Young Hova Rule the lone soldier Fuck peace, I grill more beef than George Foreman, warnin' Us niggas is wanted like warrants My bitch, my whips be foreign Aston Martin DB9, with a dime bitch from Harlem, I'm Just a product of my environment, right? Like Preme, the calmest cat My dream is to get back to '89 when movin' crack wasn't a set back In due time, I'll refine the level of excellence And plaques won't be nothin' but evidence Rewind the present, before rap was relevant When my aspirations was to be the next D-boy in the projects Nah bitch, hustler Turnt professional rap star, motherfucker Trap stars on the come up Now Feds claimin' we more cleanin' cash than a washer So let me get to washin' up, nigga smarten up That soft white get to hardenin' up We hit the block, move it two for one Motherfuckers ya done for We comin' for you, niggas die slow It's Murder still, just thought you should know [Verse 2: Newz & Ja Rule] 40 cal. or Lark him up Stiff him up, starch him up Gem star, carve him up Catch him while he parkin' up (GET 'EM!) I beat him down, then I stomp him up (yeah) Whip his ass 'til his blood start coughin' up (BLOCK GANG!) We the wrong tree to be barkin' up (ugh) Shit, I was sleep, why the fuck these niggas start me up? (GET 'EM!) I turn that coupe to a coffin (uh huh) One out the Larkin'll turn his ass to a Dolphin (BLA-OUW!) A hit of this kush'll turn his ass to a martian (you know) A word from the boss'll turn his son to a orphan So, DIE MOTHERFUCKER, DIE! You damn right, Ja Come through in that coupe with the chopper And go RRRAAA RRRAAA You niggas mad, you ain't go get ya gun yet I heard you snitchin', lucky I ain't rip out ya tongue yet Been rappin' 7 years, nigga, I ain't have fun yet Been pitchin' 6 summers, I ain't get a Cy Young yet (nah) You got that work a week ago, but shit you ain't done yet ('ssup?) Nigga I play the bar and do a hundred in one set (GET 'EM!) You know ya boy losin' threat You goin' against me you gon' lose, nigga, bet I got enough dope money, I can fuel the jet Your boy Young Newz handle birds like a vet 'erinarian, young barbarian Somebody rose Marion 'cause I'm about to bury 'em, bury 'em [Verse 3: Tre] I am the definition of it (what?), murder So (?) that's what I'm representin' What you get I catch you slippin', murder Niggas best give us our recognition Yo I'm from the muh'fuckin' district, I'll murder you (?), murder land, (?) No mercy for any person goin' versus, it's curtains It's curtains, these ain't just verses if you wonderin' I done the dirt I'm shovelin', you want some on ya coffin lid? Certainly, (?), Tre hundred (c'mon) Your numbers mean nothin', it can be one or whoever want it I'll have ya rebels runnin', burnin' like the devil done it (haha) Fuck your army, tell 'em that I'm comin', hah So get prepared for me, partna How dare niggas threaten me (?)'ll kill ya colony like Kamikaze bombers, opposite of Dalai Lama Here comes apocalypse, kill all the drama Toss 'em in the deep sea like Men of Honor I bring more noise than Nirvana (yeah) 'Cause I'ma bring my boys, and my boys gon' bring them toys And them toys gon' pierce your armor I was born into problems and then taught a way to solve 'em So I shot 'em, now he's goin' goin', gone [Verse 4: Merc Montana] Yo, it's still Murder, still ridin' with the weapon on me It's 3 niggas with 3 K's, it's whatever homie A hundred round drum, boy, I ain't playin' with ya That's 300 shots, 300 niggas layin' with ya I'm a marksman, I'm heartless Moms and pops died, had to fend for myself, became a Spartan Taught to throw in a cartridge, shoot the head off a target Knife game like O.J., who want problems, mane? I keep a Larkin, one in the head Once I pull it, it's over, you're dead, I'm 'bout my bread It's Merc Montana (Montana), somethin' like Tony (Tony) Broad day with the K (OKAY!), who want it? Fuck it, it's whatever when it come to the game It's pure white when it come to that 'caine, I'm a hustler mane It's the prince in this, not a coincidence Once I get a word, niggas lay down stiff 'cause it's (Mpire!) your boy, I'm on fire Act up, you'll get left like Bodie on The Wire, (shit!) 2 in the head, he dead, it's over with (NAH!) It ain't over 'til we say that it's over with, Murder! [Outro: Gerald Butler from 300] Leonidas: SPARTANS! PREPARE FOR GLORY!