lirik lagu detroit rap news - playa why you hating
[intro]
[verse 1: homi skeez]
me and savage play, hit a lame for forty~three p’s
clown~ass n~ggas hittin’ houses stealin’ tvs
if you had the rounds up in our guns a twenty~three g’s
lazers on the rifles and the optics make it 3d
we really had it jumpin’ in the ‘jects, we had to relax
they started seein’ junkies in the hall like a rehab
get caught by your garage, tryna fumble with the keypad
seven mile dog, but a cat with the reflex
[verse 2: rich ash]
first time me and skeez linked, we wasn’t ’bout to do no songs
he was loadin’ up them chops and i just bust twenty phonеs
for every b~tch that evеr said i wasn’t rich, i dare you prove me wrong
this vs on my neck, you try to reach and you gon’ meet the stones
my name worth more than gold, from numbered streets to torture zone
but when i’m on the mile, i feel like i’m right at home
plus i’m ridin’ right or wrong, you ain’t gotta question that
i know you f~cked up, you sold your game and you sold your straps
[verse 3: homi skeez]
i’ve been in the gutter all my life, so i’m trife with it
i ain’t playin’ friends with a punk, i don’t like n~ggas
tell him that it’s pure, but it’s hit, just a price difference
used to be a slimy little boy, now my life different
if you know some n~ggas wanna k!ll you, keep the pipe close
i’ma turn a black little boy to a white ghost
make me bring the flash in the party, n~gga, strike pose
when you might turn to the man with the right load
[verse 4: rich ash]
made a dub in ann arbor f~ckin’ with my white folks
in miami, then i hit a thick b~tch with my ice on
doin’ the dash in the srt, look at how the pipes smoke
don’t invite me to the club if i can’t have my pipe on me
if it was a price on me, go and get your money back
these n~ggas’ guns only for pictures, they don’t bust no strap
i heard lids accepting applications, all you n~ggas cap
if you ever thought you got off on me, watch me get back
[verse 5: homi skeez]
k!ll a b~tch brother and his mans, you let the b~tches rob you
if i want him dead, i’m a b~tch i let a n~gga stop me
it’s a four nickel, but it’s little fitted in the pocket
playin’ on the blender in the stove mixin’ different powders
any big bucks that i touch i’ma split with ash
jump out dumb with the drum, turn a b~tch to ash
don’t stop lettin’ off shots ’til you steal a soul
soon as i get that glass house, i’ma l!ck the floor
[verse 6: rich ash]
i’d tear the club up like cash money and vez
you wanna beef over a b~tch until you end up dead
skeez’ll smoke a n~gga quick if he don’t feel like playin’
f~cked the b~tch and made her dip ’cause i don’t feel like layin’
i’m gettin’ right back to the money, bein’ broke is so disgustin’
n~ggas hate me but i love it, y’all shoppin’ on a budget
if you catch me out in public, boy, you better hope you clutchin’
i ain’t never did no runnin’ and been sh~ttin’ twelve summers
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