then. i hate to say but it's true, i really don't wanna be with you, and i think that i wanna go home, so why won't you leave me alone?. [chorus] when
get your ears on (x2) 'Cos I'm Hi-Fi, Hi-Fi I'm serious, bring it on! Hot, like the desert sky You're so cool on the inside You hate being recognised
So damn if you feeling me, cause I know that you fearing me And F' the F-E-D's, cause I know that you hearing me It's like I'm seeing H.A.W.K. in my sleep
I'm bout the do' Even if, the fucking police hot I'ma roll like I'm legal, cause you know we spot Switched up to moving c.d.'s, you know we hot Soundwaves
gangsta'd out Gangsta'd out To all my niggas c-walkin' We gangsta'd out To all my niggas b-walkin' We're gangsta'd out You niggas know what we about We
your fake ass east coast props brainstormed and locked [Verse 5: E.D.I.] You'se a B-writer a 'Pac style taker I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothin
Fuck you to the Marin County Sheriff department Fuck you to the F.B.I Fuck you to the C.I.A Fuck you to the B-u-s-h Fuck you to the AmeriKKKa Fuck you
you plan to be rich There's ten rules to the game, but I'll share with you two Know, niggaz gon' hate you for whatever you do Now rule one -- get your
go down throw down forget about tomorrow cuz you cant pay back all the time that you borrowed it's too late on streets of hate you await your fate i tell you brother you
pen or you end up smoked that's why I keep a heater on my passengers seat an I'm Mobb Affiliated uh, uh I know you hate it I rather be caught with my
gravin' misbehavin' like a fuckin' stowaway trunk full of throw-aways Glocks Tech's AP's Mac's fuck wit 'ol skool Richie Rich you get you ass taxed nigga
came with the FEDs I'ma slowly torture you, until you tell me who hired you Put a bullet in your head, if I feel they wired you Where my thugs at grinding
I get bad b****es, now I even f*** Mya (I f***ed the first Game), 50 you a liar See that?s why I hate you, you think you know me I?m tell everybody,
later you little haters Are too jealous of us to love us You hate it G-Unit made it and Obie's coming D-Tweezy's coming you're sick to your stomach 50
the 9 and the velour A cal in my pocket You wil', I'mma pop it I'm down for a profit I'm ghetto as hell You can't you tell? My road dog, under the jail
cuz I'm this good I just wanna please you Hug and squeeze you Don't move for nothing, I got everything you need boo Keep it on the B2, Blade switching If you
die, mommas cry Ain't nobody come and save us Better hate and I hate you then Now hate me cause you can't change Now hate me cause you blame me of stoppin
