Lirik Lagu Where The Haters At - Young Buck
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(feat. All-Star, Lil' Murder, Hi-C)
[Chorus: Young Buck]They was glad I was broke, mad cuz I'm richSo put that nigga out if it's a hater in this bitch (uh-oh!!)Stuntin in the club, make 'em start a riotThrow my hood up then go take it outside[Repeat]
[Verse 1: Young Buck]Why you hate me nigga? Yo baby momma love meShe see me in the club, and runs up and hug meI show her no love, she keep on comin backTellin me she got yo club, and where yo money atIt must be my 'Lac, that's sittin on PirellisThe way I count stacks, that's got these niggas jealousSee I'm hard on a hoe, I get down for mineYou need a hand-out bitch, don't waste ya timeIf you don't work (you don't work), you don't eat (you don't eat)We go to jail, go to church, go to sleepI'm ridin' 'round wit Scrappy in the A wit my heatTryna figure out how to get to PeachtreeCome on nigga
[Verse 2: Lil' Murder]Young nigga, but a certified playaBut youse a bitch nigga, youse a bonafide haterThey was glad I was broke, but now im livin majorHustlin and servin niggas like a waiter for the paperWe ridin down the strip in sumthin so wetWhen ya bitch see a nigga, wanna suck a nigga dickSmokin' dro and drinkin' liquor till a nigga get sickEvery city, every state, it's the same ol' shitNigga money make the world go 'round so get ya hustle onThese niggas snitchin' so much, I'm like "fuck a phone"Mad cuz im on, they love to see me downI know you gon' let me shine and get minenigga
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: All-Star]Look, hatin' aint healthy, nigga so keep it movin'These shots will wake ya whole hood up, I'm sleepin' through itChea, I'm used to it, I done made a gun firePull the trigger one time, sound like a gun fightYou was glad I was broke, now ya mad cuz ya hoeLove it when a nigga put it in the back of her throatBuck, Hi-C, Murder, and Star, we aint never scaredI don't need my pistol in the club, I'll brawl thereI know hustlers that do deal whiteJump stupid, find out what these boots feel likeYea, yall know me, All-Star im so street (yea)What it is, what it aint, what it gon be
[Verse 4: Hi-C]I don't bust my gun, like a halftime football gameI aimed straight and I took yall nameAnd ya whole click look all lameYou can catch me in the house with a pyrex and it cook all cainePut that metal in ya mouth, you gon swear I was doctor wallsIm in the club with my muthafuckin' glock in drawersI had to let my nuts hang, so I dropped my ballsYou aint hit him wit no bullets nigga shot the wallsYou shoot to scare, I aim and killWhen I dump on you, they gon think yo brain aint realIm heavyweight in the game, you featherweightWhen they hear a nigga take a loss, they wanna celebrateBitch
[Chorus]
[Chorus: Young Buck]They was glad I was broke, mad cuz I'm richSo put that nigga out if it's a hater in this bitch (uh-oh!!)Stuntin in the club, make 'em start a riotThrow my hood up then go take it outside[Repeat]
[Verse 1: Young Buck]Why you hate me nigga? Yo baby momma love meShe see me in the club, and runs up and hug meI show her no love, she keep on comin backTellin me she got yo club, and where yo money atIt must be my 'Lac, that's sittin on PirellisThe way I count stacks, that's got these niggas jealousSee I'm hard on a hoe, I get down for mineYou need a hand-out bitch, don't waste ya timeIf you don't work (you don't work), you don't eat (you don't eat)We go to jail, go to church, go to sleepI'm ridin' 'round wit Scrappy in the A wit my heatTryna figure out how to get to PeachtreeCome on nigga
[Verse 2: Lil' Murder]Young nigga, but a certified playaBut youse a bitch nigga, youse a bonafide haterThey was glad I was broke, but now im livin majorHustlin and servin niggas like a waiter for the paperWe ridin down the strip in sumthin so wetWhen ya bitch see a nigga, wanna suck a nigga dickSmokin' dro and drinkin' liquor till a nigga get sickEvery city, every state, it's the same ol' shitNigga money make the world go 'round so get ya hustle onThese niggas snitchin' so much, I'm like "fuck a phone"Mad cuz im on, they love to see me downI know you gon' let me shine and get minenigga
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: All-Star]Look, hatin' aint healthy, nigga so keep it movin'These shots will wake ya whole hood up, I'm sleepin' through itChea, I'm used to it, I done made a gun firePull the trigger one time, sound like a gun fightYou was glad I was broke, now ya mad cuz ya hoeLove it when a nigga put it in the back of her throatBuck, Hi-C, Murder, and Star, we aint never scaredI don't need my pistol in the club, I'll brawl thereI know hustlers that do deal whiteJump stupid, find out what these boots feel likeYea, yall know me, All-Star im so street (yea)What it is, what it aint, what it gon be
[Verse 4: Hi-C]I don't bust my gun, like a halftime football gameI aimed straight and I took yall nameAnd ya whole click look all lameYou can catch me in the house with a pyrex and it cook all cainePut that metal in ya mouth, you gon swear I was doctor wallsIm in the club with my muthafuckin' glock in drawersI had to let my nuts hang, so I dropped my ballsYou aint hit him wit no bullets nigga shot the wallsYou shoot to scare, I aim and killWhen I dump on you, they gon think yo brain aint realIm heavyweight in the game, you featherweightWhen they hear a nigga take a loss, they wanna celebrateBitch
[Chorus]
