Hate Me

ian (Trap)

    Continues after the ad

    Shouldn't be drinkin' on lean, I'm already half-dead
    Give a fuck, I'm a gangster, I'm thuggin' (I'm thuggin', brrt, frrt, frrt)
    Yeah (Grow up, nigga)
    Huh, yeah, huh, come on (Us)
    Huh, huh, huh, yeah, yeah, yeah (Brrt)
    Come on, huh, huh

    Wedding Cake in my blunt with no bride yet
    If I face me another, I'll die here
    I'm just prayin' I make it 'til Friday
    Either way, I'ma die with my pride
    Fell in love with the Cullinan parked out front, bitch, wait 'til you see the garage
    I done made me a promise, I'll fight back once, this time, I'ma leave it to God
    On God, I ain't play 'bout nothin' once
    When it's game time, jump in, clutch
    First thing in the mornin', blunt
    First thing in the mornin', I jump off the porch and head straight to the Porsche, get to drivin' like somebody chasin'
    Rock it 'cause I couldn't afford it, my pockets enormous, every time that I walk, I'm chafin'
    You don't know how to ball, you lazy
    You ignorin' my calls, shit crazy
    One time for the hoes I'm savin'
    One time for the hoes that hate me
    Two times for the hoes that hate me
    Three times for the hoes that hate me
    Three-five in the blunt, I'm spacin'
    Four doors on the Rolls, shit spacious
    I don't know if it's— uh
    I don't know if it's smart I stay here
    I don't know if I want that Maybach
    I don't know if I'll find my way back
    I ain't never gon' buy my way in
    I ain't never gon' bow to no man
    I don't care who the fuck you came with
    I don't care what the fuck your name is (What?), huh

    Continues after the ad

    My Chrome unfindable
    Like I did me a hit and I threw it away
    Pop out that bitch and hit him in his fa—, uh-huh
    We open up doors in the summer
    I took the roof off of the Hummer
    I snuck in that bitch with a llama
    I'm sneakin' outside like Osama
    Know I'm richer than your favorite rapper
    If I'm not, then, God, kill my mama, huh
    Biggest house on the street
    We the first Blacks here like Obama
    Okay, let's see that thunder
    On the plane, we took the drugs under
    And my bitch ass dumb like Yolanda
    I'ma pick the drank up from Lafawnduh
    Fah-fah-fah-fah, yeah, fuck 'em
    I be twistin' my fingers, I bang
    And Concrete the gang
    Same nigga, just rich, I ain't change
    Same nigga, I'm totin' that flame (Huh)

    I'm the same old kid, but I gotta grow up now, I'm a grown-up now
    I've been havin' some long-ass nights, one more long-ass flight 'fore I'm right there next to you, huh, damn
    Driver, move up, my legs need room, huh, huh, damn, huh
    I really could call this backseat home (Brrt)

    I know all of my ex-hoes miss me
    I was driftin', poured a whole sixteen
    I'm gon' clutch it, I don't do no wrestling
    And my mouth diamonds look like a cuff link
    Put my bitch in all DG, free B.G.
    We on TV, I'm makin' a mo—
    We on TV, I'm makin' a movie
    Durag on my head, it's The Boonies
    Fuck whoopin' his ass, he gon' sue me
    I'll fuck it up fast, then re-up
    Sip drank like I don't wanna be up
    When we catch you, don't call for Jesus

    Song details

    Composition: Miles Parks McCollum and Deshawn Jackson

    Did you see an error?

    Enviar revisão