Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Haters Song (slowed), artist - Z-Ro.
Date of issue: 11.08.2001
Song language: English
Haters Song (slowed) |
So much struggle and pain, I’m stuck in the game |
Can somebody, help me please |
I’m so sick of motherfuckers, steady capping up in my face |
Cause they got, a little cheese |
I’ma be on my way, to pay one of these days |
Ready to bust, one of these A to the K’s |
Can’t even count, how many blunts I blaze |
Wetter than Surfside, riding on a wave |
Can’t nobody talk about pain like me, and that’s about a god damn shame |
Nigga been pen pimpin ever since '91, and I’m still in pursuit of my change |
I done been through a group, and a solo tape |
Trying to stay out the kitchen, and cook no mo' cakes |
Can’t sell you no crack, but I’ll sell you a track |
And then a nigga, headed to another photo tape |
Trying to walk, on the straight and narrow |
But the straight and narrow, just to gets so thin |
Gotta fall off sometimes, but he know I’m trying |
Not trying to sin, trying to earn the dividends |
Wonder why a nigga like me, bleed the fair |
Ever heard about rent, gotta pay that there |
Everybody everywhere I go, need somewhere |
So we living our life, like we don’t care |
When I’m posted up, I sting like a wasp |
Z-Ro paid the cost, to be the boss |
Me and my niggas, use to be thicker than sauce |
Now, they don’t even come to the house |
I’m drowning in pain feeling the pain, and I really do miss my kin |
But a motherfucker like me, gotta feed my family |
One deep, I bring the bread in |
I think you better let it go, just to let you know haters |
We been down too long, y’all can’t hold us down no mo' |
This Ms. Slim Chance, I’m go off in the crowd and I make 'em dance |
Everytime I grab the mic, and take the stand |
How many mics I gotta break, till I make some grands |
They say I’m ready, cause I wreck the flow |
Say they got pathetic, won’t let it go |
All about the money, gotta get it and go |
And if you ain’t spending money, then you out the do' |
No time for the games, try stay on my toes |
So if you asking that bullshit, better let it go |
Trying to get me a mill ticket, fuck getting sold |
Spitting the flow hitting the optimo, and I think you better let it go |
You better let it go, before you get rushed in the game |
Why everybody, wanna be yelling my name |
Don’t they know my stress, will make a nigga do thangs |
All the time, cause I be living thoed in the game |
24/7, I be wrecking the microphone |
And leaving everybody stuck, cause I’m wrecking on every song |
And tell them hating ass cats, who wanna hate me |
I’m fin to bust on sight, when cocked with a beam |
It’s a dirty game, but I gotta mash for mine |
Ain’t no more waiting, I’m fin to take what’s mine |
I’m a Guerilla Maab nigga, in the midst of plex |
Knocking niggas on rest, to collect my checks |
Now what a wonderful world, we living in |
The way of life, got a nigga living in sin |
All that I wanted, was to make dividends |
Maybe get my T. a new house, with a Benz to get in |
And my kin folks, a platinum plaque |
We done dominated rap, and y’all know that |
And if you didn’t know that, you better let it go |
We been down too long, and I’m letting y’all know |
You growing balls, steady trying to stand tall |
Never do nothing, but crawl |
Better get up off your knees, and develop some N-U-T's |
Wannabe’s, and the wanna-be-me's |
I really been stilling, my status |
There’s never ever, gonna be another me |
Gonna take, too much practice |
I got too many motherfucking songs, up under the mattress |
Situation at hand, these motherfuckers |
Wanna talk down on me, cause I shine |
Even though I went a long way, I gotta keep on going |
So I read the root, when I grind |
Sure is funny to me, when a nigga give me my card |
Another one’s, talking down |
Thinking they deserve the credit, they big headed like Frankenstein |
But sound like, Z-Ro when they rhyme |
One deep individual, up under God |
Keep faith, in you Jesus Lord |
But I really wanna know, will it ever get around to the good part |
I’m so sick of the struggling, I wanna be bubbling |
But they setting up, road blocks |
Automatic mouth piece, fully loaded and cocked |
And all enemies, must be dropped |
Fuck it I said it first, and I’mma say it again |
I’m in it to win, I’m never gon rest |
My 16's be like a quest, better sit back and prepare for my address |
Collaborated, by the Southside V-E-T |
Singing off always, R-I-D-G |
E-M-O-N-T, and a nigga gon stay one deep |