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  • Текст песни Mack 10 - Hate in Yo Eyes



    Intro

    You can hear it bumpin' through the door,
    There's a party jumpin' on the floor,
    And the way it soundin' there is no doubt,
    That the west coast is in yo' moooouuuttthh.

    Verse 1:

    It's all gravy, petty cash never phase me
    So pull me a shot of 'gnac & purple haze me
    I'm a hustler, gettin' cash like crazy
    Pork rind pays me work that youll never get cuz your lazy
    Glock hugga, the hood raised me (Inglewood!)
    And she wont be happy till she lays me
    No! you never seem to amaze me
    So the cheap shot you took at me never even grazed me
    My names walkin like a street king
    Cuz I mixed the hoo-bang thing with the bling-bling
    A whole lot of haters out there I see
    But I flip em all of and keep doin' my thing
    I'm a floss about it with my Inglewood swing
    Rocked out from my ear down to my pinky ring
    Now ding-ding let the bell ring
    and if its drama you want then it drama I bring sing

    Chorus

    Verse 2:You know this cash is just small potatoes
    No names, cuz this is addressed to all the haters
    From the wood there is none greater
    Mack the headlinin' and y'all just spectators
    Remember the "Fo' Life?" i put the 'wood in it
    And looked out for you when your own hood didn't
    And plus you forgot who was payin' yo bills
    Introduced you to the game and gave you a deal
    For me y'all be piddly rhymin
    You got the hustle game backwards and nickle and dimin'
    Both hip-hop classics, I make 'em and got 'em
    And yo' group ain't been heard of past the bottles
    I play with 'em on my turf and mingle with my g's
    And i got one word to say
    What Please?
    Chicken walk, y'all ain't nothin but a feather in my wing
    And all this hatin' mean I'm doin my thing sing

    Chorus

    Hoo-bang, hoo-ride, all day, all night
    On Dubs, up high, Westside, fo life
    Hoo-bang, hoo-ride, all day, all night
    On Dubs, up high, Westside, fo life


    Verse 3

    Now tell me, is it the duece-1's on the Bentley
    The lowriders that matchin' is that why you resent me?
    That smile on yo face, and act so friendly
    Walk away with hate and a heart full of envy
    Say Bro? What kind of the game is that?
    You got ways of a dame and how lame is that?
    Act like a groupie around strange cats
    And its strange, you don't have any shame in that
    I got yo car playboy and I ain't trippin'
    You know me, just roll with the punches and keep it pimpin'
    Get through by punches, no name and tippin'
    Let it ride on the Harley, and '64 dippin'
    Stay real about my screel if you know what I mean
    I'm like a leprechaun, I want nothin' but green
    Avoid the haters, and before the party sing
    Cop the rock from the D R and make the hood dream sing

    Chorus x2

    Mack 1 0 hoo-bangin fo life
    And i don't quit
    Take a picture trick
    Yeah, Take a picture trick
    It might make you rich
    Westside Riders! Baby!
    Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh....