f*ck da Haters lyrics
by Hoodrich Pablo Juan
[Chorus]
f*ck these b*tches, fell in love with the hundreds
Went in Louis, spent a twenty on my luggage
Four in that twenty, I'm drinking that muddy
I don't need juice when I'm drinking, on Tussin
f*ck the haters, these b*tches gon' love me
Getting mine, I don't play by my money
Grew up in the streets, I ain't trusting nothing
Don't run up, my n*gga, because I'ma bust you
f*ck these haters, these b*tches gon' love it
Very important, everything 'bout the money
Got trap bunking on a Sunday
Got a rifle, shoot like a hundred
Stayed down and I f*ck up the commas
Got a b*tch that look like Madonna
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it
[Verse 1]
f*ck a hater and his opinions
Got a sweet trap, selling sugar and cinnamon
f*ck the law, we don't f*ck with them
Trap jumping, balling over the rim
I ain't gon' kill you, I'ma cut off a limb
You a plankton n*gga, smaller than a shrimp
Bought two bricks, I'ma double them
I put it in the pot, it's bubbling
Gotta cold rinse, use the oven mitts
I can f*ck with the roaches, but not the rats
Strapped up like we at war at Iraq
So many traps, I done wore out my welcome mat
Pocket rocket with my belt buckle
I'm a big dog, little pus*y cat
Got money and power, won't take no disrespect
My jewelry wet, got these b*tches getting wet
[Chorus]
f*ck these b*tches, fell in love with the hundreds
Went in Louis, spent a twenty on my luggage
Four in that twenty, I'm drinking that muddy
I don't need juice when I'm drinking, on Tussin
f*ck the haters, these b*tches gon' love me
Getting mine, I don't play by my money
Grew up in the streets, I ain't trusting nothing
Don't run up, my n*gga, because I'ma bust you
f*ck these haters, these b*tches gon' love it
Very important, everything 'bout the money
Got trap bunking on a Sunday
Got a rifle, shoot like a hundred
Stayed down and I f*ck up the commas
Got a b*tch that look like Madonna
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it
[Verse 2]
Plugged in, put the fish in the oven
f*ck the hater, he ain't talking 'bout nothing
All of my young n*ggas get to the money
Jumped out the plane and she chews on my leg
Specific n*gga, this a Spiffy production
Givenchy, n*gga, man, I got by the dozen
These n*ggas hating 'cause their b*tches, they love it
I'm strapped up everywhere, I act up in public
Since a young n*gga, been faithful to hundreds
I need a mill worth of Harriet Tubmans
No liquor, Act, Hitech, and Tussin
Dressing fancy topic of discussion
I was in the hood, if you don't know me, you wasn't
Working for profit, everything 'bout the money
Smoke it, cook it, these b*tches love it
Get on your knees, b*tch, suck it
[Chorus]
f*ck these b*tches, fell in love with the hundreds
Went in Louis, spent a twenty on my luggage
Four in that twenty, I'm drinking that muddy
I don't need juice when I'm drinking, on Tussin
f*ck the haters, these b*tches gon' love me
Getting mine, I don't play by my money
Grew up in the streets, I ain't trusting nothing
Don't run up, my n*gga, because I'ma bust you
f*ck these haters, these b*tches gon' love it
Very important, everything 'bout the money
Got trap bunking on a Sunday
Got a rifle, shoot like a hundred
Stayed down and I f*ck up the commas
Got a b*tch that look like Madonna
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it
f*ck the haters 'cause these b*tches gon' love it