| Say Q, man feel this here, I don’t know why
|
| These motherfuckers be hating us the way they do
|
| Every motherfucking day, all motherfucking day long
|
| Nigga can’t get no motherfucking rest, that’s why
|
| I drink and smoke so motherfucking much
|
| You feel me, get off my dick
|
| Why you be hating me
|
| Day and night, baby
|
| Mad at me, cause I don’t buy
|
| The dreams that you selling lately
|
| I needed to get up off my rump, and stack something
|
| I was tired of walking around, ready to plack something
|
| Big heads, screwdrivers, spark plugs to break the glass
|
| Hold my bases of selling dope, anything to get that cash
|
| I was getting grown faster, than average niggas
|
| Bills and mouths to feed, I needed cabbage nigga
|
| Did a little rapping on the side, but I was full time grind
|
| Till they ran up and 50 one eleven, and shut it down
|
| When I got out, I wanted to get some work and do it over
|
| Instead I picked up a pen, and got to jotting in a folder
|
| Niggas was bobbing they head, bitches was bobbing they head
|
| The first time in my life, I didn’t worry bout no feds
|
| But I wasn’t out the woods yet, round shife too
|
| Niggas be killing eachother over lime light fool
|
| Ain’t with it fuck a million, I just want what I earn
|
| But they don’t like it when I holler KMJ because it burn
|
| If you wanna jam, you can grab a hold of my funk
|
| But if you plan to take me off of my game, like I’m a chump
|
| I won’t punk about it, I’mma do my thang
|
| Dumping on niggas from the turning lane
|
| But it’s burning man, cause that’s how it go down
|
| Niggas be trying to get you, when you live in H-Town
|
| And you throwed, in the game
|
| Wanna get you for your mouthpiece or your name
|
| Have you giving up hits, having no change
|
| Having more overdue bills, no strings
|
| Not me, no more, it’s a new day
|
| I’m in a new ride, and it’s looking too gray
|
| Remember if you sew it, it’ll read right back
|
| So when you treat a nigga wrong, the heavens’ll handle that
|
| Got a name for myself now, selling them tapes
|
| I still be traveling I-10, but I ain’t selling no weight
|
| No more, blue over gray four do', in and out the lanes
|
| Steady keeping my melodies, running in and out your brain
|
| But I need my money, cause ain’t no working for free
|
| If it ain’t twenty-five hundred, no appearances from the Z
|
| Man, got to get my feet man, got to be treated fair
|
| Trying to put me on a back burner, I’m out of there
|
| A veteran to the game, you can’t do me like no ho
|
| When my crib got flooded, you didn’t help me you let me float
|
| Now you wanna exercise your contractual right
|
| But if you fuck me the first time, there ain’t gon be a twice
|
| Recognize ain’t no hate in my heart, cause I’m a guard
|
| I don’t hate nobody, just hate it when times get hard
|
| In my new situation, I’m having rich-nigga troubles
|
| Without the switch, I’d have in a ditch-nigga troubles |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hatin’ Me , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Life The Making Of A Prophet, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп