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[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]

[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]

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