Cam’ron, Jim Jones - Hate Me Now Freestyle lyrics

I heard niggas talkin' reckless
Man, y'all talkin' out the
Side of your mouth, nigga
Y'all niggas is faggots, straight pussy
Word to my mother, I'll put
My foot in your ass, nigga
No homo, nigga, what's really good?
Jim Jones, Jim, Capo status, East side, fool
Dipset riders, nigga, when we catch you
We gon' slap that Kufi straight
Off your mothafuckin' head
Any other problems, nigga? You know
Harlem gon' ride out, nigga
Harlem, y'all act like I wasn't gon' stand up
I wish you would, nigga it's nothin'
When the dogs catch you, it's
Over, you're straight food, nigga
Everybody wanna be king of the city, right
When I come, nigga, y'all niggas
Better be real calm, nigga
It's nothin', we just livin'
Millionaire status shorty
When you fuckin' with the don, you
Fuckin' with the Jones, you heard, nigga?
Y'all with me? Harlem! Diplomats!
Let's ride out
It's gangstas over here, Harlem hear
Me with you, Killa, east side

Aye yo
This lil’ nigga Nas think he live like me
Drove 5’s, shot 5, flipped pies like me?
Nah, Cam gonna blast
I done ran through his past
And I ran for the mag, Taliban on your ass!
You’re terry cloth, that means very soft
Thanks Jay, Carm’s the bomb
Broke her cherry off! Severely massacred
We really gonna laugh at ya
The MAC-Milli blast at ya
You really run to Africa
Stupid, sucker for love, home plenty
Nelson, Mandela, we all boned Winnie!
Shit, I come over and fight
You a lame, you forgot over the night
Yo, your career’s over like Mike
Any one, Tyson, Jordan, Jackson
Ask Dunn about my mean deals
Frizzle steam, triple beam, cripple teams
When you seen money in Queensbridge? Never
I used to catch the tunnel
Lil E, Vernon side
I gave him packs and bundles
How many grams in an ounce?
How many ounces in an eighth
How many eighths in a key
Shorty, stay in your place
Before the AK’s in your face
Take your daughter, R Kelly
Have my way with her face!
And your mom’s a whip wop head
And you claim to be a hip-hop head?
Ooh wop, two shots in his hip-hop head
This way the whole world know
That hip-hop’s dead! Killa!
Roc-A-Fella, hip-hop bread
50 thou' a night, holla back, hit my spread
You wack, you twisted, your girl's a ho
You’re broke
The kid ain’t yours and everybody know
Your mans even tell you, you be like, "So?
I love my baby mother, I never let her go"
Stupid

That's right, nigga, we gon' get our spread
Nigga
That's a dumb percent of that for me, nigga
So you know I'm ridin' for that, nigga
Country bum ass fuck
Don't even know how to rock rocks
I caught you with them two
Rocks on your wrist, nigga
Next time it's gon' be killin', nigga
Trust me, man, I'ma clap you in flowers
You faggot
You ain't even relyin' on your own hood
Nigga you know where we at, nigga!
140th and Lenox, 15th and 7th, nigga
All our jewels, nigga, trust me, man
We glitterin' faggot, you punk
You fuckin' pussy hermaphrodite
Straight homo, pussy ass nigga with a dick
Nigga you got meek, nigga, word to
Man got me so mothafuckin' hot, nigga
I'm just gon' calm down, man
Yo Killa, fall back on these chumps
And let's explain to
Them a few things they need to learn better
Nigga holla, east side the gangstas for sure