[Intro: 8Ball] They love to hate Any time, any place They love to hate Behind the back and in the face They love to hate Every day, all day They love to hate Behind the back and in the face
[Verse 1: 8Ball] Leave one of you niggas stretched out in the middle of the street Stressed out every day of the week My only relief when I hear these beats Smokin’ calms me down Talk soft but the weeds I blow loud I was hard then, still hard now Memphis nigger, that still my town Bitch 4-5, bout for sho’ If you see it you probably gonna die Don’t rough that but the bullets in the outside like shh shh when they wield ‘em by Put it in the light, bag it ain’t slow My DNA was not the trans ho MJG, my brother for life No speculation, that’s what I know Timeless, it don’t die bitch Long life, strong heart, hot head Could’ve been dead Space age, that’s what we are Bigger than life, Superman No cape on, with the blunt in my hand Safety off, I might let one go Safety off, I might let one go
[Hook: 8Ball] I wanna make them happy songs but it’s not a accurate reflection I make sweat poetry with my immaculate perception Never go nowhere without profile, that’s built for my protection I was rolling up and burning at the time of its conception And I know that sound, kinda fucked up y’all But that’s how I feel and that’s how I roll And that’s all I live, and that’s all I know And it’s what I give and that’s how it goes
[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame] Twenty thousand eight balls of cocaine That’s what it cost for the chain Meet 8Ball in the ass club They screamin’ all make it rain, that’s all I know, my dog bark I’m a boss like a GD My life a movie, no TV, I’m fully focused All my heads in, the brief feel better in the driver seat Don’t preach to me about music Sayin’ Waka step up your lyrics Mind your business, I’m eatin’ Big belly, that’s to get money gut Flockavelli got me a bulletproof truck These two group kids got me stuck Blow it out the back, well Waka Flocka Flame The ’96 show, I do what I wanna do, do whatcha could I said ghetto after ghetto, walkin’ block after block From Craig County Riverdale, what the fuck? I’m up all night like a truck I don’t trust shit, the cops is suckers Brick Squad Monopoly that’s the company I don’t need no company so I'mma let my homies speak I'mma do me and be myself If you don’t like that go fuck yourself
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Yelawolf] You see this Jack bottle? That could be the reason that I pulled the motherfucker right out, scared him And introduce him to my homie in the trailer park Hand over to my boy Grip Plyaz You see this bad model? She might be the only bitch to ever get you into a situation Because you hate to see me lookin’ like I do and still get these number tens, ho Oh you a gangster huh? Well I never seen a G suckin’ dick cause I put it on my fuckin’ list To fuck up shit in the rap game And I’m doin’ it Slummerican's bangin’, huh? Besides me, you ain’t never gonna fuck with Rittz And Shawty Fatt'll welcome back into the welcome mat Young Struggle at the mailbox with the bricks 8Ball, Waka Flocka walking through the sticks Alabama got a lot of troubles with the clips And because I know about a murder written 'bout this Yelawolf has got a lot of people talkin’ shit But it’s everything cause you don’t know about the history That my career has been through, homie I coulda flown to the moon on a bird's back Before I could jump out and act like a phony So it really don’t matter to me What you think about the clothes I put on It’s my originality That's got ‘em all acting like hoes Catfish Billy and I'm on some new shit Don't hate bitch, I can make you rich Suck dick while I sip Nestle Quik With my money shoes all over you momma's new whip, yup Yeller [Outro: