Field Mob - Haters lyrics

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Field Mob - Haters lyrics

[Chorus: x2] Haters! Hatin' cause my 20's be..choppin! choppin! Hatin' cause these hoes be..jockin! jockin! Try me and my glock'll be..co*kin! poppin! Why you want to player hate on me? Is it the big truck sittin' up on mike Jordans...that's 23's With the big ole owl, dual heads roaring Or is it the caprice sittin' Emmitt smiths...that's 22's On the impala on 20 inches Mo' wood in it than old abe lincoln's cabin And with mo' gla** in it, than in your cabinets Or is it the way we come down watchin' xxx White s** from the ceilin', visors, and headrests Or is it the ?? chain, the Gucci hat, the gucci air Jordan retros to match Even though I step on the scene, so fresh and so clean Nice takin' with me, I still got my weapon wit' me Strapped wit' a tech in my jeans Ready to squeeze, cause I know you haters get tempted to wear my Neck-a-lace. [Chorus: x2] Now just imagine if there wasn't no real n***as No hustlers, thugstas, mobstas, and field n***as On the real, t double d, I still keep it real I love the streets that you f** n***as named haterville Lied on me, said I was a murderer, said I used to serve you work But I ain't never heard of you I love dub-deuces, only cause I'm sittin on em And once again I'm gunnin, copped the big 500 A Chevy boy, candy green and chrome fronted n***as hide out or they ride out cause my sh** runnin I sold more oz's than cd's and lp's Baby, I'm a thug plus I'm og I roll 'em heavy, I'm bout my fetti And the feds is what I'm headed If you f** n***as keep tellin'. [Chorus: x2] I was sittin in the rankin, 69 ?? And ceelo twa*kys (choppin) 4 15' subwoofers (blasting) I don't like that n***a, f** that n***a Man, I want to shoot, slap, punch, kick, cut that n***aa! That's what they say on the low We're losing himmmm! That's what paramedics'll say While you lay on the floor Can we all just get along? smoke trees, hit a bong Haters p**y n***as, so I'm a choke 'em wit' a thong Even the block envy me, I make a mill wit' the flo' But I'm better wit' coke and hot hennessey My peers is like queers they only get mad 'Cause I ride rims old enough to buy beers They smileeee while hatin' but when it comes to fakes I spot more than dalmations [Chorus: x4]