Artist: Field Mob
Song Title: Haters
[Chorus: x2]
Haters!
Hatin' cause my 20's be..choppin! choppin!
Hatin' cause these hoes be..jockin! jockin!
Try me and my glock'll be..cockin! poppin!

Why you want to player hate on me?
Is it the big truck sittin' up on mike Jordans...that's 23's
With the big ole owl, dual heads roaring
Or is it the caprice sittin' Emmitt smiths...that's 22's

On the impala on 20 inches
Mo' wood in it than old abe lincoln's cabin
And with mo' glass in it, than in your cabinets
Or is it the way we come down watchin' xxx

White sex from the ceilin', visors, and headrests
Or is it the ?? chain, the Gucci hat, the gucci air Jordan retros to match
Even though I step on the scene, so fresh and so clean
Nice takin' with me, I still got my weapon wit' me

Strapped wit' a tech in my jeans
Ready to squeeze, cause I know you haters get tempted to wear my
Neck-a-lace.

[Chorus: x2]

Now just imagine if there wasn't no real *****s
No hustlers, thugstas, mobstas, and field *****s
On the real, t double d, I still keep it real
I love the streets that you **** *****s named haterville

Lied on me, said I was a murderer, said I used to serve you work
But I ain't never heard of you
I love dub-deuces, only cause I'm sittin on em
And once again I'm gunnin, copped the big 500

A Chevy boy, candy green and chrome fronted
*****s hide out or they ride out cause my **** runnin
I sold more oz's than cd's and lp's
Baby, I'm a thug plus I'm og

I roll 'em heavy, I'm bout my fetti
And the feds is what I'm headed
If you **** *****s keep tellin'.

[Chorus: x2]

I was sittin in the rankin, 69 ??
And ceelo twankys (choppin)
4 15' subwoofers (blasting)
I don't like that *****, **** that *****

Man, I want to shoot, slap, punch, kick, cut that *****a!
That's what they say on the low
We're losing himmmm!
That's what paramedics'll say

While you lay on the floor
Can we all just get along? smoke trees, hit a bong
Haters ***** *****s, so I'm a choke 'em wit' a thong
Even the block envy me, I make a mill wit' the flo'

But I'm better wit' coke and hot hennessey
My peers is like queers they only get mad
'Cause I ride rims old enough to buy beers
They smileeee while hatin' but when it comes to fakes
I spot more than dalmations

[Chorus: x4]

From http://www.lyrics007.com