Chaz Gotti - Hate lyrics

[Produced by Will-A-Fool & Bobby Kritical] [Intro: Chaz Gotti] How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans [Hook: Chaz Gotti] I got rich before my idol Know he mad, he seen me poppin' Fix your face, I see you poutin' Spent a check in Neiman Marcus How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you calling your friend They might take the food out your hand [Verse 1: Chaz Gotti] How can you hate on your man? How can you stay with your man? How can you eat off your man? Watch what you say to his homies Get a badder b**h, you turn her phony Hate when your man's your opponent Put in work with a n***a Then they end up telling on you Started from the bottom in the trenches with a n***a f**ed up my wrist with my n***a Shot my first stick with my n***a I hate that I called him my n***a I jumped out a Porsche and a coupe I'm still with the same crew Some n***as red, some are blue Some n***as fake, some true [Hook: Chaz Gotti] I got rich before my idol Know he mad, he seen me poppin' Fix your face, I see you poutin' Spent a check in Neiman Marcus How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you calling your friend They might take the food out your hand [Verse 2: K Camp] Watch who you're calling your friends Watch how I flex in a Benz Watch how I turn up on n***as again and again and again and again Hey if I like it I spend Really no need to pretend That n***a Gotti my kin I'm mixing the juice, that's a hell of a blend Do it one time, do it one time Smokin' that Lou got me out of my mind f**ing your b**h and I ran out of time That money keep calling, you know that's a sign Yah, and all my n***as want them M&Ms f** them n***as, we ain't friends with them For real [Hook: Chaz Gotti] I got rich before my idol Know he mad, he seen me poppin' Fix your face, I see you poutin' Spent a check in Neiman Marcus How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you calling your friend They might take the food out your hand [Verse 3: Chaz Gotti] Pop a seal, no Cris Louis dripping, all Christian Get love in the D like the Pistons Good with the TEC and the pistol That's the traphouse, please don't make it your home That b**h ain't no good, please don't make her your ho No love in the streets, I pray I make it home f**ed up on Xans, I pray I leave em 'lone Slime be your man but you call him your home Man I miss Duncan, I wish he was home She ain't good for me, I can leave her alone I can't resist her in her thong Can't name a n***a I did wrong Took care of the streets on my own Jura**ic Park, Little Italy Clay county my home [Hook: Chaz Gotti] I got rich before my idol Know he mad, he seen me poppin' Fix your face, I know you poutin' Spent a check in Neiman Marcus How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you calling your friend They might take the food out your hand [Bridge: Chaz Gotti] How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you callin' your friends They might take the food out your hand How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you callin' your friends They might take the food out your hand [Hook: Chaz Gotti] I got rich before my idol Know he mad, he seen me poppin' Fix your face, I know you poutin' Spent a check in Neiman Marcus How can you hate on your man? Too busy f**ed up on Xans Watch who you calling your friend They might take the food out your hand