Mannie Fresh - Hate lyrics

(Aye, aye, Fresh, Stunna Man, we back at it daddy) Them n***as be hatin' on me man (two-thousand-sixteen, summertime shine, stuntin' on 'em) Let me tell you the type of sh** they say about me They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why I'mma stay connected like the wifi Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (Gon' head on and) hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate When I get this money I'mma k** 'em Twenty twenty vision to n***as who ain't want to see me with it n***a f** ya Don't make my trigger smart n***as go dumb-dumb Yeah, yeah, yeah Take me where these hoes at, Adderall and Prozac I'm so f**in' focused in this b**h I just can't hold back Tell 'em bring that money bag, beast mode, running back Big Tymer, Ferragamo, Juvinino where you at? All I do is get it, dude you never get it You be in your feelin's too, my dude you're so pathetic You got too much sugar in your blood, diabetic You sick, you got the hate disease and I ain't tryna get it, no Mixin' Cristal and Ciroc I need a name for it, call it Chris Rock I'm in this motherf**er lookin' like a pile of some guap Come make a name for yourself and p**y pop, p**y pop They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why I'mma stay connected like the wifi Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (Gon' head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate n***a got your old girl dappin' with the whole world Trust me, just me, referee and blow girl That's that boy BM, hit me in the DM Bust that f**in' p**y wide open AM to the PM But that's another story though and I ain't tryna tell it Now it's on, now you're hangin' out with dime rock Betty And Betty she don't know no better, shoot up dope or smoke whatever Used to be my homie, now you're mad 'cause we don't roll together? We're the real n***a And I don't give a f** if they was real sisters These n***as think they on, hit the k** switches Money comin' b**h, my palms and my heels itchin', yeah yeah They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why I'mma stay connected like the wifi Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (Gon' head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate You be hatin' on a n***a like police n***a You be barkin', you ain't nothing but a Maltese n***a When these sharks out, we'll see you they'll be your teeth n***a It's Tune and Juvie we got Mannie on the beat n***a You M-A-D n***a, yeah You don't want to see me with a dime out You don't want to say that I couldn't afford sh** You don't even have a watch to tell the time now And I got 20 karats in my Rolex n***a lean with it, n***a rock with it That's some lean double cup with Ciroc with it n***a lean with it, n***a rock with it We got Mannie on the beat, bop-bop-bop with it Shots fired, somebody ran up in Juvie house That's far sober enough to have n***as spookin' out And I got homies 'round that I got love for But n***as go through sh** so I don't root 'em out They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why I'mma stay connected like the wifi Need her like a 64 gig iPod p**y n***a Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (Gon' head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate Yeah, yeah, we back at it daddy Stunna man, you know there's always that one that'll hate 'Til you put a choppa in his face, you dig? Fresh you're a fool with it