Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song You Gotta Love It, artist - Max B. Album song Library of a Legend, Vol. 23, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.12.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Biggavelli
Song language: English
You Gotta Love It |
OK First off, you a bitch nigga |
Only reason I’m doin this |
I’ma jus' name 5 reasons real quick, got a hundred fifty |
First, you stole Roc-A-Fella from Dame |
Second, you stole Kanye from Dame |
Third, you stole Roc-A-Wear from Dame |
Forth, I seen the nigga throw that diamond up |
Before them shots was fired |
Fifth, hold on, turn the beat off |
I had to turn the beat off for this |
You talkin' bout you a 80's baby |
You 37 years old, you was born in 1968 and I open the daily news |
How’s the king of new york rocking sandals with jeans? |
Open toe sandals with choncletas with jeans on |
How’s the king of New York rocking sandals |
With jeans and he 42 years old? |
Back to business |
You ain’t the only one with big wallets |
Got it, my shits brollic, dot it |
But your publishing should go to Mrs. Wallace |
Honest. |
Stealing +BIG+ shit, he made 2 albums, you wildin' |
And he can’t dress dog who styled 'em |
It was Roc-a-Wear, when Dame had it |
Now you got it, call it +Cock-a-wear+ |
(you got it on) huh not in here (nope) |
Dead it pronto, you won’t see a car. |
No |
Dame and Biggs bitch for years, now you Juan hoe |
(Go to Lennox and Broadway you dumb ass nigga) |
He own the 40 40 got you in Atlantic City |
Bitched your budget outta baseline, goddamn it’s pretty |
You love a Harlem nigga we get it cookin' it’s true |
But now I look we got more dudes in Brooklyn then you |
Appar-ently right? |
Down in Jeezy video |
I shoulda kissed you on the cheek |
You a pretty ho (ask Weezy, Weezy was there) |
At Jaz video you starred in it, Peter Pan (Hawaiian Sophie) |
I was hopping off the greyhound, Peter Pan |
(Call him Hawaiian Sophie from now on) |
How could he be the man? |
(huh) |
Only reason fam I don’t suck dick or kiss ass and I’m consided, damn |
But we hawk yo, right where you walk ho (right where you walk) |
You can fool the rest of the world long as New York know |
We put you underground clown ain’t gone check to sell-us (cellars) |
I know he 40 years old, I don’t respect my elders |
I respect the hustlers, plus the grinders and the sellers |
Yous a customer buster, here go jet propellers |
You gotta hate us the way we getting this paper |
All my niggas is coming strait from minimum wages |
Niggas dick ridin the dips steady tryin' to play us |
(Quit trying to spray us) |
But for robbery we gotta new flavor (DipSet) |
In 40th niggas we tote them guns (DipSet) |
This is 40th nigga we from the slums (DipSet) |
Pushin forty nigga you not the one |
It’s Killa Season holla at a nigga cause here it come |
Killa! |
Let’s go |
Who can fuck with me? |
No mammal, but we tote handles |
Atcha open toe sandals, and you look like Joe Camel |
(go smoke some cigarettes) |
Off of Rocafella right? |
no contact |
But Busta fly joints, they put us out the contract |
I left the label right, lot of cats wonder how |
Every time I diss that label I get fined a hundred thou' |
Jus for tellin' y’all I get fined a hundred thou' (This is crazy) |
Huh them cats are ill, 5 times a half a mil |
Wanna play like a bumper sticker smack a grill |
Paul Wall cap a grill but them cats are daffy dills |
(put flowers on them niggas) |
East coast west coast slang yo cap ya peel |
Down in Houston ask B I’ma mack forreal |
Heck you tell me, respect, better dwell me |
Beyonce fiance, check my 2nd LP (check my second album) |
I might bring it back, that’s your girl, that’s your world |
Had the thing, fucking singing bout slinging crack (word) |
Mr. Rocafella stop, stop, stop it fellas (stop) |
Still got our acapellas, but I will Akinel her |
«Put it in ya mouth-Put it in ya mouth» |
It ain’t my fault I’m raw |
I’m sorry B but I want a war |
And he stabbed «Un» (Lance Rivera) |
Over Charli Baltimore (fucking fagot) |
Sucker for love, nuh-nuh sucker for love |
Killa bitch go to trial handy stuff in the glove |
I’ma hop in the bed |
Dog gon' jus' pop off her head (you know what is is) |
Tell «Oh Jay-Z chill, Cochran is dead» |
Y’all niggas don’t want it with us man |
This just round one, 15 rounds B |
We ready you ain’t gone bluff us at no concert |
Sell out twenty five thou' |
Actin like you gon' diss us |
You got anthrax over there man, and we George Bush man |
You ain’t gone Sadam Hussein it |
Acting like you got something over there |
You doing what Ma$e did, you making super songs man |
Let it out man, we ready for 15 rounds man |