Lyrics Haters - B.o.B

Haters

We got them going down for the count
Looking at the ground
That’s why we got haters, that’s why we got haters
Haters everywhere we go, haters everywhere we go
Haters everywhere we go, where we go
Haters going down for the count
Looking at the ground
I think you’re a hater, I think you’re a hater
Haters everywhere we go, haters everywhere we go
Haters everywhere we go, where we go
Haters going down for the count
Yes sir it’s the beast from Decatur
Can’t see enemies and the haters
Real sharp on my thing like a razor
Blade, come clean like a shape up
So guess I got a game of tape up
But everybody going to feel the need to say something
But can’t speak up whenever you face them
That’s what you call microphone gangsters
Yeah, I got them okie-doke, yeah I’m raw, you know my flow
Because folk be acting hard, like a Viagra overdose
Talking that noise on all them songs
A bunch of little boys but you all look grown
Those niggas there, and these niggas here
It really don’t matter because they all just clones
Go to school, read a book, be a lawyer
Hell yeah man I’m all for the cause
Ain’t trying to get involved with the law sir
But a nigga will get caught with the Mossberg
And that just ain’t a threat on the song
Don’t get it wrong because this track is my own
Because niggas that slip they don’t last long
Hey, what the lick read homie?
Me I’m doing what I always do
Grinding, if you wasn’t steady hating you’d be balling too
I know you seen us falling through
All the rich niggas is on my crew
Fuck it, they can’t touch us, if stuck up is what you call it cool
Oh!
You should of seen when I came down in that
Black on black, custom gator, haters face down on the mat
Splat!
Yeah I can make a green nigga mad
Quick, fast, flash like ten cash on his bitch ass
You can tell I’m a G by the walk and the stance
How I play the game make them talk in the stands
Watch how you talk when you talk to the man
If it ain’t about bread you can talk to the hand
I, I, show you how to get rich
You got a weak arm I’ll show you how to pitch
Made it so play I’ll show you how to hit
And tell the police I don’t know about shit
Aye guy, I’m fly, something like the air
Ain’t that something?
When it’s stunting man there’s nothing like air
Homie hold it right there, homeboy hold it down
Spent five at the mall and had the haters going down