lirik lagu diabolic - club hater
“i am an officer of the law, and uh by all rights i could uh..”
“f-ck off”
“you should watch your mouth little girl”
“ahhhhh”
[hook]
we like to welcome you all to club hater
where hustlers, b-tches, and thugs they all hate ya
when players floss, they false and toss paper
where your people are fake, and they might snake ya
we like to welcome you all to club hater
but we ain’t sweating it, our moves are major
let’s get this party poppin’, let’s get them t-tties shaking
make sure the sh-t we sayin’ keep the city hatin’
[verse one: diabolic]
yeah, yeah, club hater, where thugs hate ya if you touch paper
where y’all are bound to get stuck like we duct taped ya
where cats who tuck razors are much safer
while i recline and find a dime to f-ck later
models clock watching the bottles you got poppin’
you not knockin’ to hustle b-tch so stop plottin’
start kn-b slobbing and get me off like john cochran
‘til some hater gets his jaw rawked for c-ck blockin’
it’s not stoppin’, sip 80 proof grey goose
‘till i fall out like a baby tooth came loose
it may be true, we’ll take loops from crooks who k!ll ya
real recognize real and you don’t look familiar
takin’ shots of liquor, some vodka mixture
late night, when snakes bite, and plot to hit ya
you got the picture, in the cut smoking a l
ladies free all night, doors open at 12
[chorus]
[verse two: smoothe da hustler]
you’re the sh-t if you’re there, dipped in the ware, it’s tension here
sniff the air, smell a stench in the gear
b-tch in your ear, her fist in your rear
adjusting your vision to witness a slip in your gear and disappear
we bury men, hitting more l!cks than lesbians
sleep, we give you more nightmares than freddy
the shiest talkers, life talkers who strike offers
after the club, we home, run hoes, we night hawkers
we ice flossers, and dice t-ss-rs, we like corners
we club hop with drug blocks they ride for us
what you buggin’ for coming in the door, front and huggin’ the wall
beefin’, why you think i carry the oven for?
reaching to half bake one of y’all, some of y’all want it raw
you carry the battle, i’m tuggin’ the war
come aboard, i’m comfy, try not bugging me
guy’s died ugly for eye f-cking me, he was c-ckeye ?
[hook]
[verse three: smoothe da hustler]
look there ain’t no dress code, expect hoes to be dressed in less clothes
hate growing like escrow
heck no, you can’t get my john hanc-ck
i’m in the john, hand on my c-ck in a fan’s tw-t
hustler’s creep, scheming on something to eat
‘cause a customer leave with some hustler up the street
the flame from the snub laid him dead under the sheets
so the name of the club changes every couple of weeks
[diabolic]
trouble and beef, will scuffle ’til my knuckles are beat
i won’t stop ’til i knock out a bunch of your t–th
surrounded by cut-throats, drowned in the dutch smoke
burning haze ’til every clown in the club choke
the top recruit, in hot pursuit if you’ve got the loot
with some prost-tute in the bathroom knockin’ boots
ready for war, c-ck and shoot, the same soldiers
diabolic and smoothe da hustler, the game’s over
[hook]
“because i don’t like nothing in the first place, and i don’t like you”
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