E-40 - Record Haters lyrics

Yo check it out
Today we're here wit basketball
Star Rasheed Wallace (Yo what up kid?)
From the what, what
What team is that you play for again?
(Sshh the Bullets man) yea right, right
So tell me Rasheed you know what I'm sayin
This Hip-Hop thang and everything going on
Tell me, I mean, what, what's yo flavor?
(Yo check it out kid
I only like real Hip-Hop man
The real shit you know what I'm sayin redman
Wu Tang you know what I'm sayin I don't
Fool wit the Goodie Mob's
And I especially don't fool wit them E-40's)

Nigga what the fuck they hit
For? Nigga let's shoot fins
You got all the bread nigga, put up yo' Benz
Nah nah
Can't do that - Why not? Old school trophy
Something I done worked too hard for
Nigga quote me
Yo swole bank rolls done turned
Into lil old anorxin
Get ready to pay the piper
Hully Gully pee-wee no catchin'
Who got change for this brand new hundred?
Straight outta welfare
When I break you niggas I'm
A have enough money, to buy Fairfield
Spend about a half a hundred thousand
Boost up my coins
Proceed to spit more Superfly
Than Donald Goines
This game is so damn hemorrhaging
That I'm delivering
These niggas don't understand my shit
But they surrendering
Simmering, remembering things that
Done jumped off
Lyrics spit more mucus than a, a bad cough
Messy hoes, got my name between they teeth
Just because i'm from the West not the East
Graduated from the dope game fat ass wallets
What's that nigga name? Rasheed Wallace!
You gon' have to learn to
Respect your elders mayne
I'm twomp-eight nigga ain't no need
For you to record hate
Mind ya own, or ya own gonna remind you
Nigga! The Click will biatch!

Record Hatin bitches!
Suave game and snitches!
(Learn about it bitch)
We should cease you from existence
(That's right)
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin
(Mutha fucka) ya Record Hatin bitches
(Trademark)
There's no way you could get wit this
(Stick to basketball nigga)
We should cease you from existance
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin (Biatch)

Got another muthafucka on my shit list
I'ma cut off his dick list
I mean my hit list my rest in piss list
Dude that be hangin around Nas
You know, gay baby
Nigga said some negative shit about me
Up in a magazine called 4080
After watching "New York Undercover"
While I was, takin a shit
Kool Keith was on the front
Cover that's when I that's when I spotted it
That nigga AZ tried to say that
I don't deserve a platinum plaque
Nigga I was selling tapes out
The trunk of my car
When you was running round drinking Similac
All up in yo fake ass videos (ok)
Champagne an coffin full of skrill
Nigga know damn well yo punk ass
Ain't got had no mills
I'm payin full nigga an I'll have
Yo head where ever you at
I'm straight fool nigga seem like someone
Shoulda been an told ya
That bring the yellow tape nigga
Jungle full of asphalt
Don't make no sense to talk that talk
If a nigga ain't gonna walk that walk
Zip up yo' lip before yo' lip zip you up
Biatch! Biatch!
I gives a fuck! Biatch! It's major pain
Nigga don't know a damn thang about me
You mutha fuckas don't know nuttin
Bout no E-40 ho! Monkey mouthed biatch!
Biatch!

Record Hatin bitches!
Suave game and snitches!
(Learn about it bitch)
We should cease you from existance
(That's right)
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin
(Shouldn't be livin)
Ya Record Hatin bitches!
(Record Hatin bitches)
There's no way you could get wit this (Uh)
We should cease you from existence
(V Town bitch)
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin
(E'ry time)

When I first started off
Niggas had me fucked, muthafuckas was blind
In '89 that ol "Mr flamboyant" shit
Was way ahead of his time
Had everyone an they great grandmas
Off that Carlos Rossi wine
Was in a major label an business that
Uh didn't want us to shine
It was me an my potna
From Suave House Records
Tony Draper, E-40, and The Click
8-Ball and MJG gettin that independent paper
All about my ruh uh rap, uh-should I shine
Beat a muthafucka uh-duh down, e'ry time
40 get yo marbles, mayne, get yo change
Take a limousine everywhere you go
And fly private planes
That's what I was tuh uh-told
By my big homie tho
You gon' always be a nigga
But a nigga ain't rich til he
Can't count his money no mo'
Overnight sensation, never me
All you "Record Haters" got PhIv
My niggas 3X Krazy laced me
Taught me how to say "fa sheezy"
Told me them AZ muthafuckas don't
Believe fat meat greasy
We can shoot it out, or we can fight
You and Rasheeda wanna squash the funk?
Shoot me a peace kite biatch!

Record Hatin bitches! (Record hatin bitches)
Suave game and snitches!
(Suave game and snitches)
We should cease you from existance
(That's rich)
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin
(Suck-els) ya Record Hatin bitches
(Lil ol, biatch)
There's no way you could get wit this
(That's right)
We should cease you from existence
(Learn about it)
Niggas like that shouldn't be livin
(That's right)