Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song H.A.T.E., artist - Z-Ro. Date of issue: 14.04.1998
Song language: English
H.A.T.E. |
| Hey why they hate me like I stole something, that make a nigga wanna roll |
| something |
| But I’m they closest partner, if I let em hold something |
| Good for nothing, but making me hate my peers |
| So let the whole world, taste my tears |
| When they roll they represent anger, paranoid with one in the chamber |
| Deliver heads shots to my foes, and make them do a gainer |
| And when they splash it’s a blood bath |
| And I trust no one ain’t no more chunking up the deuce, when my thugs pass |
| Live my life in silentary confinement, away from y’all |
| If I needed artillery, could I even get the K from y’all |
| I’m all alone in the ways of the wicked, since I can’t stand you hoes |
| Forever lonely when I kick it, in the lumino |
| With straps and shells, my life is murder and mail |
| The opposition see me coming, and they blast they self |
| This for my homies that don’t know me, when I’m broke |
| Swear to God I hope you motherfuckers choke, when my gun smoke, hate |
| The H is for these hoe niggas that’s all in my face |
| And the A is for the actions that these bitch niggas take |
| And the T is for the tommy gun that’s bout to blast |
| And the E is for eternal cause I ever last |
| I be feeling like Pac, because I wonder if they still down |
| Facing homicide from haters, but my homies didn’t even spill rounds |
| Fuck y’all, I hate you motherfuckers to death |
| Remember times, when I stopped niggas from clutching your chest |
| I live in bulletproof vests, but it seems |
| The only time I got family, is when a nigga dream |
| So fuck sleep, I’m on a 24 hour grind |
| Look at your darling son, now mama I’m out of my mind |
| I don’t know how to be happy and I can’t smile |
| And fuck a bitch cause she be plotting on how to get you, when y’all walking |
| down the isle |
| The same motherfuckers that you care for |
| Look how they do you, they don’t love you pick up your pistol and therefor |
| Represent yourself with the plastic |
| Cause me myself, wanna put all of you motherfuckers in caskets |
| Fuck love, unless it’s coming from the heaven up above |
| My hatred being written in blood, hate |
| There ain’t no telling if a nigga make it, I might be stuck in the slums |
| A walking target, steady ducking the gun |
| Believe in me and you can keep your wife |
| There’ll be no hostages, just give me what I’m looking for and keep your life |
| I’m military minded, you can ask Klondike Kat |
| Even if they bomb first, Z-Ro about to bomb right back |
| I give a fuck about your life now, slugs hitting your windpipe now |
| Guess you could say, I’m living shife now |
| All about my fetty, till I bubble like some champagne |
| Z-Ro the Crooked, the most valuable player up in this rap game |
| So back back-back back, be sure to give me more than fifty |
| Automatic rounds, down to pass that |
| Murder my foes, then I murder my friends |
| Because they turned on a nigga, when I ain’t have no ends, hate |
| Murder my foes, then I murder my friends |
| Because they turned on a nigga, when a nigga wasn’t chopping a Benz, hate |