Текст (слова) песни: Young Buck - Where The Haters At?

[Chorus: Young Buck]
They was glad I was broke, mad cuz I`m rich
So put that nigga out if it`s a hater in this bitch (uh-oh!!)
Stuntin in the club, make `em start a riot
Throw my hood up then go take it outside
[Repeat]

[Verse 1: Young Buck]
Why you hate me nigga? Yo baby momma love me
She see me in the club, and runs up and hug me
I show her no love, she keep on comin back
Tellin me she got yo club, and where yo money at
It must be my `Lac, that`s sittin on Pirellis
The way I count stacks, that`s got these niggas jealous
See I`m hard on a hoe, I get down for mine
You need a hand-out bitch, don`t waste ya time
If you don`t work (you don`t work), you don`t eat (you don`t eat)
We go to jail, go to church, go to sleep
I`m ridin` `round wit Scrappy in the A wit my heat
Tryna figure out how to get to Peachtree
Come on nigga

[Verse 2: Lil` Murder]
Young nigga, but a certified playa
But youse a bitch nigga, youse a bonafide hater
They was glad I was broke, but now im livin major
Hustlin and servin niggas like a waiter for the paper
We ridin down the strip in sumthin so wet
When ya bitch see a nigga, wanna suck a nigga dick
Smokin` dro and drinkin` liquor till a nigga get sick
Every city, every state, it`s the same ol` shit
Nigga money make the world go `round so get ya hustle on
These niggas snitchin` so much, I`m like "fuck a phone"
Mad cuz im on, they love to see me down
I know you gon` let me shine and get mine
nigga

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: All-Star]
Look, hatin` aint healthy, nigga so keep it movin`
These shots will wake ya whole hood up, I`m sleepin` through it
Chea, I`m used to it, I done made a gun fire
Pull the trigger one time, sound like a gun fight
You was glad I was broke, now ya mad cuz ya hoe
Love it when a nigga put it in the back of her throat
Buck, Hi-C, Murder, and Star, we aint never scared
I don`t need my pistol in the club, I`ll brawl there
I know hustlers that do deal white
Jump stupid, find out what these boots feel like
Yea, yall know me, All-Star im so street (yea)
What it is, what it aint, what it gon be

[Verse 4: Hi-C]
I don`t bust my gun, like a halftime football game
I aimed straight and I took yall name
And ya whole click look all lame
You can catch me in the house with a pyrex and it cook all caine
Put that metal in ya mouth, you gon swear I was doctor walls
Im in the club with my muthafuckin` glock in drawers
I had to let my nuts hang, so I dropped my balls
You aint hit him wit no bullets nigga shot the walls
You shoot to scare, I aim and kill
When I dump on you, they gon think yo brain aint real
Im heavyweight in the game, you featherweight
When they hear a nigga take a loss, they wanna celebrate
Bitch

[Chorus]

Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям:

Прямая ссылка на текст песни Where The Haters At?:
http://musworld.ru/music/eng/124/1/2132.html

Все тексты песен: Young Buck
» Young Buck - Look At Me Now
» Young Buck - Bang Bang
» Young Buck - Puff Puff Pass
» Young Buck - All About Money
» Young Buck - Let Me In
» Young Buck - Do It Like Me
» Young Buck - Thou Shall
» Young Buck - Purse First
» Young Buck - Stomp
» Young Buck - G-Shit
» Young Buck - Prices On My Head
» Young Buck - Hard Hitters
» Young Buck - Pocket Full Of Paper
» Young Buck - Buck The World
» Young Buck - All My Life
» Young Buck - Penny Pinchin`
» Young Buck - Slow Ya Roll
» Young Buck -
» Young Buck - Walk With Me
» Young Buck - Get Buck


Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Young Buck - Where The Haters At? [Chorus: Young Buck] They was glad I was broke, mad cuz I`m rich So put that nigga out if it`s a hater in this bitch (uh-oh!!) Stuntin in the club, make `em start a riot Throw my hood up then go take it outside [Repeat] [Verse 1: Young Buck] Why you hate me nigga? Yo baby momma love me She see me in the club, and runs up and hug me I show her no love, she keep on comin back Tellin me she got yo club, and where yo money at It must be my `Lac, that`s sittin on Pirellis The way I count stacks, that`s got these niggas jealous See I`m hard on a hoe, I get down for mine You need a hand-out bitch, don`t waste ya time If you don`t work (you don`t work), you don`t eat (you don`t eat) We go to jail, go to church, go to sleep I`m ridin` `round wit Scrappy in the A wit my heat Tryna figure out how to get to Peachtree Come on nigga [Verse 2: Lil` Murder] Young nigga, but a certified playa But youse a bitch nigga, youse a bonafide hater They was glad I was broke, but now im livin major Hustlin and servin niggas like a waiter for the paper We ridin down the strip in sumthin so wet When ya bitch see a nigga, wanna suck a nigga dick Smokin` dro and drinkin` liquor till a nigga get sick Every city, every state, it`s the same ol` shit Nigga money make the world go `round so get ya hustle on These niggas snitchin` so much, I`m like "fuck a phone" Mad cuz im on, they love to see me down I know you gon` let me shine and get mine nigga [Chorus] [Verse 3: All-Star] Look, hatin` aint healthy, nigga so keep it movin` These shots will wake ya whole hood up, I`m sleepin` through it Chea, I`m used to it, I done made a gun fire Pull the trigger one time, sound like a gun fight You was glad I was broke, now ya mad cuz ya hoe Love it when a nigga put it in the back of her throat Buck, Hi-C, Murder, and Star, we aint never scared I don`t need my pistol in the club, I`ll brawl there I know hustlers that do deal white Jump stupid, find out what these boots feel like Yea, yall know me, All-Star im so street (yea) What it is, what it aint, what it gon be [Verse 4: Hi-C] I don`t bust my gun, like a halftime football game I aimed straight and I took yall name And ya whole click look all lame You can catch me in the house with a pyrex and it cook all caine Put that metal in ya mouth, you gon swear I was doctor walls Im in the club with my muthafuckin` glock in drawers I had to let my nuts hang, so I dropped my balls You aint hit him wit no bullets nigga shot the walls You shoot to scare, I aim and kill When I dump on you, they gon think yo brain aint real Im heavyweight in the game, you featherweight When they hear a nigga take a loss, they wanna celebrate Bitch [Chorus] Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Where The Haters At?: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/124/1/2132.html Все тексты песен: Young Buck » Young Buck - Look At Me Now » Young Buck - Bang Bang » Young Buck - Puff Puff Pass » Young Buck - All About Money » Young Buck - Let Me In » Young Buck - Do It Like Me » Young Buck - Thou Shall » Young Buck - Purse First » Young Buck - Stomp » Young Buck - G-Shit » Young Buck - Prices On My Head » Young Buck - Hard Hitters » Young Buck - Pocket Full Of Paper » Young Buck - Buck The World » Young Buck - All My Life » Young Buck - Penny Pinchin` » Young Buck - Slow Ya Roll » Young Buck - » Young Buck - Walk With Me » Young Buck - Get Buck Рекомендуем скачать: » Александр Сивухин - Ричард первый » Алексей Хвостенко, Анри Волохонский - Прославление Олега Соханевича » Алла Пугачева - Не сгорю » Александр Мирзаян - Что мы к себе притягиваем ближе » Александр Розенбаум - Ты когда-то была молодая... » Апрельский марш - Падал теплый снег » Александр Гаранжа - Зеленый чайничек качается, костерчик разгорается... » Анна Чайка - Беда не беда, но полнеба до мира... » Александр Иванов - В час, далекий от рассвета... » Александр Городницкий - Свадьба » Аркадий Дубинчик - Романс варваров » Андрей Земсков - Штрихи к автопробегу » Аквариум - Ангел » А.Маршал - Белый пепел » Александр Король - Помню было... Падал снег... » Анатолий Лазарев, Юрий Левитанский - Все уже круг друзей, тот узкий круг... » Алена Свиридова - Лунный свет » Алексей Глызин - Все позади » Апрельский марш - Хорошая девушка » Адо - Если ты жив
© 2007-2025 «MusWorld.ru»