| Why you wanna… playa hate on me?
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| oh hoo hooooo baby
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| oh yeahhhhh
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| eh heyyyy
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| why you wanna playa hate on me?
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| Verse 1 *(Yukmouth)*
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| Nobody can help him
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| so welcome to the land of ski maskes
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| we blastes
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| to bust a couple of caps up in they weak asses
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| the dust that’s bein kicked up an Yuk is down to lick up do a stick up at an Armor truck pick up then get tucked,
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| up out the scenery,
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| wit greenery,
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| stopped up, watch up,
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| sew the block up wit creamery,
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| the cream, I sling, got fiends on my team,
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| like a fiend I dream, an hoes swing on my ding-a-ling,
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| sumpthin tremendous,
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| they spend grip,
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| endless trips to Macy’s, they trade me,
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| so playa hataz… hate me,
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| I keep the safety off my four-fifth,
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| hold it in focus,
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| fools didn’t used to trip on my dick when I was the brokest,
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| but notice, I got a lil mail now,
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| cuz everbody bump L-U-N-I-Z like hell now,
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| you juss a busta brown an blood you know,
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| Chris spreadin faulty rumors around the Town like Club New Vogue,
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| really though.
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| Chorus *(Teddy)*
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| Why you wanna… playa hate on me? |
| x2
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| (Why you playa hate!!!) x1
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| Why you wanna… playa hate on me? |
| x2
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| (Ooohhh!!) x1
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| Verse 2 *(Knumskull)*
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| I gots to,
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| keep my business to myself,
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| cuz hataz talk mo than get shot to spread rumors when it’s loaded,
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| hatin get yo grill exploded,
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| quick,
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| severed,
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| the first thing I heard,
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| I stole a credit card from Chris Webber,
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| I never knew that,
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| but’s who’s that, an next,
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| I heard them ridin around smokin crack in the back of my homies Lex,
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| it be them broke ass, no cash,
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| bustaz tryin to quote… that’s why the Town got rid 'o $hort,
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| I think you busta browns need to wise up,
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| before we ride up,
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| stop,
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| sew up yo block, an sew them lies up,
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| once don’t trip,
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| twice no grip,
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| three timmesss, will get you bucked wit the nine,
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| I thought the hatin would stop, but the rumors are passin still,
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| sounds like that busta that plugged mo holes than mass appeal,
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| you need to stop!
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| hatin on,
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| the C-N-O-T-E, D-R-U, an the L-U-N-I-Z.
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| Break it down, oh yeah,
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| fo the Luniz an, they homies.
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| I am here to let you know!
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| Gotta think for you… so leave the Luniz alone.
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| Verse 3 *(Yukmouth)*
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| Let me tell yo ass a story, yes,
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| they juss be hatin to the fullest but you can miss me wit that B.S. |
| that
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| you stress,
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| when you test the young Hugh Heff,
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| the tech a spit up,
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| chest get lit up,
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| foo that’s a rigg up,
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| Verse 4 *(Knumskull)*
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| Now I think the whole world knows me,
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| not what they should know,
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| it’s like rap an sellin crack is all I’m good for,
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| hangin in the hood for so long,
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| I see why they talk,
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| bitches,
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| snitch a bustaz home.
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| (Can we talkkkk… fo a minute??)
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| Verse 5 *(Yukmouth)*
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| You’re wrong I won’t be offended,
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| I be there hand in hand wit the pencil,
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| can it all be so simple,
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| like Wu-Tang, spit true game, to get pootang,
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| from a nimfo.
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| Verse 6 *(Knumskull)*
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| Now I keep sayin,
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| don’t get mad cuz you can’t bump me,
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| but I’m still gonna spit it,
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| cuz you still don’t get it,
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| if it ain’t noted, don’t quote it,
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| hataz when it comes to common sense you ain’t showed it,
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| I don’t understand! |