Money - Hatin' lyrics

(*Money & Hype talking*) What you-what you think about that Choppa cat brah That dude that be aaah, (what the f** is a aaah anyway Ain't nobody talk about the Westbank in like ten years He the first one, what the f** is a Wild West Biggity anyway I wish, somebody let me know the n***a be talking bout some crazy sh** What the f** he tal'n bout, he said his name like three hundred times In one f**ing song), Choppa Style, Chop-Chop-Choppa Style (what is that he ain't saying nothing, all I know is his name I know it real well I don't even know his face, what the f**) [Choppa] Just because, I got me deal Doesn't mean I got a big head, can't hook up with my people and chill I'ma rap, until I'm blue in the face To keep my money and my fans understand, I'ma do what it takes I never was fake, everything I'm spitting is real I was hungry I was hustling, so I'm getting a deal Flipping my sk**s flipping the scale, whatever it takes I'll put a hater in the dirt, and kick a verse at his wake Yeah I learned that from Ken, when he had the streets locked They had the heat that made you fade away, like a bleek spot They even had lil' guns, sound like grease pops And so much candy, you would think it was sweet shops Now I done done shows with Jigga, smoked with Juve Hooked up with Ja Rule, and felt some booty Had hoes claiming that, they wanted to screw me I'm bout my money, not bout what them b**hes that would do me Cause I'm in this to win this, so give me a mic I'ma spend this and send this, and back to you like Yeah, I'ma break em off proper-prop Man f** a n***a hating, on Choppa-Chop come on (*Money & Hype talking*) Man the n***a can't even rap, I heard his Hypeman writing his song Then I go check out his show, he slanging his winkie the whole show I don't wanna see his winkie, I wanna see what he talking bout [Choppa] n***as going off, what a n***a done told ya But I got fifty n***as, who willing to show ya I ain't even talking bout guns, let me blow ya I got n***as down, from Mararoe to the Magnolia Yeah, now these n***as getting in line Like they had scoliosus, and I was bout to fix they spine And all I do, is spit these rhymes I don't aim at the bullseye, but I seem to hit each time And I heard that fake sh**, that you said in your song Let a n***a make money b**h, leave me alone All that hating and repping, on Choppa-Chop Can't get mad, just because a n***a hot you not And you n***as keep on saying I'm whack But everytime I see your pop's at the corner sto', he giving me dap Said, (I wish my son could rap that way) And I write my own rhymes, ask J-J-J-J-J-M-K (*Money & Hype talking*) Man f** Choppa basically, he ain't doing sh** He ain't never gon amount to sh**, oh oh there he go That n***a bout to go on stage dog, there the n***a go right there Man I sneak that n***a dog, I'm a fool you heard I'm real with it you heard me, f** Choppa (what's up mayn, what's happ'ning dog) Choppa-Choppa hey, I got that lil' dance now Choppa Style, Chop-Chop-Chopa Style I love you boy, can I get a autograph (man you got that dog), even my girl was tal'n bout If you hear me, holla aaaah (I'ma holla at ya, when I get off the stage right When I get off the stage, alright fa sho fa sho) Ol' b**h a** n***a come up here talking to me trying to dap me off and sh** I thought you was gon sneak him though brah I kinda like that song, you kinda like the song what type of n***a you is Man I'm the one said he was a b**h a** n***a, you went to aggree'ing But I been talking bout I like that song, man you was talking bout He was a ol' hoe a** n***a man, what's wrong with you You just mad, cause he f**ed your girl