856 - Hate Them Guys (feat. Merc) Lyrics

I bless more tracks than priest bless wine
I'm only 19 I feel like I'm losing my mind
So I gotta stay on my grind
So I don't go insane
You f*ck with me I f*ck around
And put one in ya brain
Then walk off with ya dame
Private plane all the way to the coast
I'm going pop up to the burbs yo
Something like toast
I'm ready to drop
Just like the label
I'm going to break ya legs yo
Like a f*cked up table
My chicks are looking
Better than Sable
I'm connected everywhere b like comcast cable
So you know I got those things
2 For 5
You wanna come see me
For your supply
They hate guys why
Cus we gettin the dough
Hate them guys why
Cus we murder them shows
Hate them guys why
Cus we lovin ya hoes
Hate them guys hate them guys hate them guys
NJ all the way to the bay
By the way
Cops tappin my phone
Won't leave me alone
Gimme the throne
I'm the king of this block shit hot
Young boys running me packs
Give em money
Re up and they running them back
I don't give a f*ck about you or ya crew
Cus I run with the We Drop gang
Like a marathon plus
We all parking lot pimpin
Hot mommy's in Miami
Keep ya hands in our sight cus
I'm paranoid don't wanna pull out the steal
And feed you and ya crew
Bullets like a hot meal for real
Stay on ya toes and not ya heals
2003 Bo Jacksons
Stop slackin
Guess Denim with a white t
Y'all got no style
Mad style I got
Like Versace
Mad cheese with hot mommy's
Yeah please
They hate guys why
Cus we gettin the dough
Hate them guys why
Cus we murder them shows
Hate them guys why
Cus we lovin ya hoes
Hate them guys hate them guys hate them guys
Hate them guys hate them guys hate them guys
It's crazy how much money I see
From flipping these keys
I'm like easy mac
Whole lotta shells whole lotta cheese
If I pull the eagle
I won't hesitate to squeeze
Leave ya brains all blowing
All scattered in the breeze
If I pull the heat in ya face
You get weak in the knees
Be having people saying
God Bless you
As if you just sneezed
And f*ck smoky the bear yo
Cus I'm forever burning trees
Like juvenile
The heats 400 degrees
Cleaning up the murder scene
With paper towels and some febreze
Like the records got a itch
My DJ scratchin the beats
When these dudes talking shit
I just try to forget it
Treat you like ya fake ass watch
And not even wet it
I'm like perspiration
Yeah the boy get sweated
Don't let ya boys get you gassed up like unleaded
And don't look for me in stores yo
You even see me
The only way to hear Espezzy
Is on a burnt f*ckin CD holla
They hate guys why
Cus we gettin the dough
Hate them guys why
Cus we murder them shows
Hate them guys why
Cus we lovin ya hoes
Hate them guys hate them guys hate them guys
Hate them guys hate them guys hate them guys