Mannie Fresh - Hate

Song Rating: 9.67/10

Song lyrics:

(Aye, aye, Fresh, Stunna Man, we back at it daddy)
Them n***as be hatin on me man
(two-thousand-sixteen, summertime shine, stuntin on em)
Let me tell you the type of sh** they say about me

They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die
Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why
Imma stay connected like the wifi
Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a
Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
(Gon head on and) hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

When I get this money Imma k** em
Twenty twenty vision to n***as who aint want to see me with it
n***a f** ya
Dont make my trigger smart n***as go dumb-dumb
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Take me where these hoes at, Adderall and Prozac
Im so f**in focused in this b**h I just cant hold back
Tell em bring that money bag, beast mode, running back
Big Tymer, Ferragamo, Juvinino where you at?
All I do is get it, dude you never get it
You be in your feelins too, my dude youre so pathetic
You got too much sugar in your blood, diabetic
You sick, you got the hate disease and I aint tryna get it, no
Mixin Cristal and Ciroc
I need a name for it, call it Chris Rock
Im in this motherf**er lookin like a pile of some guap
Come make a name for yourself and p**y pop, p**y pop

They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die
Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why
Imma stay connected like the wifi
Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a
Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
(Gon head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

n***a got your old girl dappin with the whole world
Trust me, just me, referee and blow girl
Thats that boy BM, hit me in the DM
Bust that f**in p**y wide open AM to the PM
But thats another story though and I aint tryna tell it
Now its on, now youre hangin out with dime rock Betty


And Betty she dont know no better, shoot up dope or smoke whatever
Used to be my homie, now youre mad cause we dont roll together?
Were the real n***a
And I dont give a f** if they was real sisters
These n***as think they on, hit the k** switches
Money comin b**h, my palms and my heels itchin, yeah yeah

They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die
Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why
Imma stay connected like the wifi
Need her like a sixty-four gig iPod p**y n***a
Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
(Gon head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

You be hatin on a n***a like police n***a
You be barkin, you aint nothing but a Maltese n***a
When these sharks out, well see you theyll be your teeth n***a
Its Tune and Juvie we got Mannie on the beat n***a
You M-A-D n***a, yeah
You dont want to see me with a dime out
You dont want to say that I couldnt afford sh**
You dont even have a watch to tell the time now
And I got 20 karats in my Rolex
n***a lean with it, n***a rock with it
Thats some lean double cup with Ciroc with it
n***a lean with it, n***a rock with it
We got Mannie on the beat, bop-bop-bop with it
Shots fired, somebody ran up in Juvie house
Thats far sober enough to have n***as spookin out
And I got homies round that I got love for
But n***as go through sh** so I dont root em out

They say f** you n***a, hate you n***a, hope you die
Hope you catch the stroke and nobody know why
Imma stay connected like the wifi
Need her like a 64 gig iPod p**y n***a
Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
(Gon head on and) Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Yeah, yeah, we back at it daddy
Stunna man, you know theres always that one thatll hate
Til you put a choppa in his face, you dig?
Fresh youre a fool with it

Date of text publication: 18.01.2021 at 14:57