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作词 : DUDLEY, TERENCE QUENTIN/JACKSON, CURTIS |
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Nobody likes me |
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Nobody likes me, but that's okay |
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Cuz I don't like y'all anyway |
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...And I don't like y'all anyway |
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Fuck all y'all!! |
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My watch talk for me, my whip talk for me |
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My gat talk for me |
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BLAT! Wutup homie |
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For bitches who don't know me |
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...They wanna blow me cuz the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for me |
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I came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now |
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Serve anybody like niggas who hustle uptown |
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Coke price go up, cats is come down |
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The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found |
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The bitch who hustle for me, they dont even stash tracks |
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They keep it on em, right there in they ass crack |
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When I don't like a nigga, I don't pretend to |
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I'll have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head like a Hindu |
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Look, I ain't goin nowhere, so get used to me |
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OG's look at me and see what they used to be |
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I'm that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope |
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The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So |
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The thug, they pop shit |
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The thug that pop clips |
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The thug that went from three and a half to whole bricks |
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Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me |
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My picture's painted through words that make a blind man see |
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Scream murder! （I don't believe you!） |
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Murder! （Fuck around and leave you!） |
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Murder! （I don't believe you!） |
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Murder, murder! （Your life's on the line!） |
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Y'all niggas don't want no parts of me |
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I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me |
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Make me catch her on the late night |
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Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six |
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I'm not a marksmen while spark issue, I spray random |
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Not a pretty nigga but my moms think I'm handsome |
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I hate to hear "He say, She say" shit |
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Unless he say she say she on my dick |
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It's no coincidence, niggas who fuck wit me get shot up |
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I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up |
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You soft through, be puttin up a crazy front |
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I stay wit the Mac, cuz niggas tried to blaze me once |
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In the hood they be like, "Damn, 50 really spitted on em" |
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"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 really shitted on em" |
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Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none |
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You just a small player in this game, play a part son |
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|
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These cats always escape reality when they rhyme |
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That's why they write about bricks and only dealt wit dimes |
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Leave it to them, and they say they got a fast car |
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Nascar, truck wit a crash bar |
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And TV's in the dash, pa |
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See em in the five wit stock rims, I just laugh, pa |
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I catch stunts when I ain't tryin |
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I ain't lyin, I sit Don P til I split up |
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Keep my rent split up |
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Get outta line, I get you hit up （Wooo!） |
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Now if you say my name in your rhyme, watch what you say |
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You get carried away, you can get shot and carried away |
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Now here's a list of MC's that can kill you in eight bars: |
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50, umm Jay-Z and Nas |
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I'ma say this shit now and never again |
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We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends |
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The games you playin, you get killed like that |
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Actin like you all hard, you ain't built like that |
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See me when you see me nigga, one |
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（One） |
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|
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Y'all niggas don't want no parts of me |
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I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me |
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You gon make me catch her on the late night |
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Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six |
