Lloyd Banks - Haters lyrics

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] You already know what it is, and you know what I got And I know how it feel, it feel like somethin' hot I'm, clean as a Kodak; mean, and you know that Murder you n***as with a sixteen throwback Lean in my old 'lac; label, the bungalow's at Humble and all that; old money's my door mat They on my balls at, even before rap It's time to let the monster loose; even the score back I need a cooler coupe A Honolulu shoot, where the b**hes dance like they inside a hula-hoop The teacher; for a few mil I'll tudor dude Front and see a man with a mask, you won't know who to shoot I'm callin' you the fruit, you softer than noodle soup, or baby sh** You n***as are startin' to make me sick This is the latest twist, add it to my greatest hits It ain't for the radio, but they gon' still play this sh** [Hook: Lloyd Banks] I must admit, that I'm the sh** Just day-dreamin' 'bout the money I can get I got a shoulder with a chip, and I rock it in my whip Cause n***as act funny when they come around here You's a hater; you hate that I'm fresh, hate that I'm fly Hate that I'm real, hate that I ride [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] One's for how I live, two's for the corner kids Headin' to where c**aine and marijuana lives n***as trick they re-up money on Gabbana gifts I ain't got time for this, rap blind novelist Catch me in a club makin' two top models kiss Chronic and a little cranberry to mix my bottle with This that powder fiends gotta sniff, gotta try Pardon me, I can't let a dollar by Holla my name, it's a problem No peace talks, no daps, just wildin' I'm ridin' 'round stylin', so they racial profilin' Brad Pitt tints, lookin' at the pigs smilin' Still four cal'n, in case it get violent I'm tryin' to get on, capitalize on my talent It's all balanced, and I'm here to accept the challenge Switch islands, and watch them green things pilin'; smilin' [Hook: Lloyd Banks] I must admit, that I'm the sh** Just day-dreamin' 'bout the money I can get I got a shoulder with a chip, and I rock it in my whip Cause n***as act funny when they come around here You's a hater; you hate that I'm fresh, hate that I'm fly Hate that I'm real, hate that I ride [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] Forty-eight acres and a mule I'm mullin' on a mansion and a very big pool The youth don't care, and I feel the same way, too A product of hard livin', and how it makes you Determine if it ain't about nothin', I don't listen I got power over everything I put my dick in Which means if I was pimpin', I'd have 'em by the boat Shackles around their ankles, and chains around their throat; I'm no joke I can't go broke; I like to smoke I got a cold, and money's the antidote I got a Scarface remote, and a chopper in the vault Cause n***as ain't sh**, and feel like it's my fault You can have it how you want: bus ticket or the trunk I'll leave your whole life in the conditions of a punk I ain't hear shots, cause I don't listen to the junk They ain't gon' do sh**, n***as just like to front [Hook: Lloyd Banks] I must admit, that I'm the sh** Just day-dreamin' 'bout the money I can get I got a shoulder with a chip, and I rock it in my whip Cause n***as act funny when they come around here You's a hater; you hate that I'm fresh, hate that I'm fly Hate that I'm real, hate that I ride