Continúa después del anuncio

    [Hook:]
    These haters, up in the game
    They really don't want drama, drama no
    Them boys, up in the game
    They really don't want drama, drama no
    Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na
    Na-na-na-na-na, no
    Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na
    Na-na-na-na-na, no

    [Billy Cook:]
    These haters in the game, gon make me pop a vein
    Hotter than four bowls of Mexican chili, on the top of a stove boiling mayn
    These boys better save that drama, for they baby mama
    Keep my name out your mouth, and watch what you say
    I'm calling niggaz out one by one, two by two and your weak ass crew
    You bring the best out of me, now tell me what you gon do
    Peep the real and I peep the fake, load lyrical clips up in the AK
    And I'm B.M.G. 1965, black T fitted cap and I'm certified
    Always smiling, up in my face
    Talking that shit, and I'm gon catch a case
    Who's that going around, talking down on Billy Cook
    Saying, that he ain't the truth in the booth
    And he only sing hooks locally, and he ain't in the game

    [Hook]

    Continúa después del anuncio

    [H.A.W.K.:]
    These boys don't really want drama, put that on Pat and my mama
    It's mash point period comma, I blow shit up like that boy Osama
    Bin Laden boys be plotting, fuck around and you get shot'n
    Fuck around and you'll get caught, and they'll be digging your burial plot'n
    See H.A.W.K. don't play them games, don't mess around with no names
    I cock back load and aim, and put a big hole in the ceiling your brain
    That boy is off the chain, that boy is off the hook
    That boy got the Southside shook, cause he finally did a song with Billy Cook
    Got haters green with envy, that's just that Fat Pat in me
    Them haters wanna know who we are, when they see you coming down in a brand new Bentley
    Ask around if you in H-Town, they'll tell you I don't play around
    They'll tell you that pound for pound, Big H.A.W.K. will make you lay it down
    And to these messy girls, don't make me rock your world
    I'll give you some'ing good, that's bound to make your toes curl
    Have you chasing after nuts like a squirrel, baby girl I call it karma
    You keep on giving me the good, but baby save the drama

    [Hook]

    [Meechie:]
    Pull up on your block, in a all white Lac
    With a all black mack, fully compact gat
    Step back shake, them haters off my nutsack
    I'm from the city, where the coke and the clutch at
    Slug hair back, for the love of the game
    Leave a hater face down, like the brother of Kane
    Never think yours, that'll smother your brain
    Lethal weapon like Glover, going out with a bang
    Y'all don't want drama, with some mud city bangers
    Cook/H.A.W.K. and Blow, now that spell danger
    I'll send em in your house, all up in your hamper
    Or leave your mama holding her heart, like Fred Sanford
    Call me the dean, you can call me the champ
    First school of hard knock, hold your kid for ransom
    Keep playing with the fire, like go-go dancer
    Keep a coat full of killers, like Charles Manson

    [Hook]

    These haters, up in the game [x2]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Billy Cook, Meechie y John Hawkins

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