Текст HoodRich Pablo Juan – Fuck Da Haters

Fuck these bitches, 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

Fuck a hater and his opinions
Got a sweet trap, selling sugar and cinnamon
Fuck the law, we don’t fuck with them
Trap jumping, balling over the rim
I ain’t gon’ kill you, I’ma cut off a limb
You a plankton nigga, 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 fuck 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 pussy cat

Fuck these bitches, 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
Fuck the haters, these bitches 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 nigga, because I’ma bust you
Fuck these haters, these bitches 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 fuck up the commas
Got a bitch that look like Madonna
Fuck the haters ’cause these bitches gon’ love it
Fuck the haters ’cause these bitches gon’ love it

Plugged in, put the fish in the oven
Fuck the hater, he ain’t talking ’bout nothing
All of my young niggas get to the money
Jumped out the plane and she chews on my leg
Specific nigga, this a Spiffy production
Givenchy, nigga, man, I got by the dozen
These niggas hating ’cause their bitches, they love it
I’m strapped up everywhere, I act up in public
Since a young nigga, 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 bitches love it
Get on your knees, bitch, suck it

Fuck these bitches, 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
Fuck the haters, these bitches 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 nigga, because I’ma bust you
Fuck these haters, these bitches 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 fuck up the commas
Got a bitch that look like Madonna
Fuck the haters ’cause these bitches gon’ love it
Fuck the haters ’cause these bitches gon’ love it