**** you a natural born hater

Mad cause I won’t do you no favors

Hating won’t get you no paper

You should go get your own paper

Uh, trying to find a way to make a hundred thou’

Without punching the clock for like two hundred hours

A week, but if I hit the streets and beat my feet

Some coppers creep, pull out the heat and throw my body on the ground

But tell me how this cocaine got inside the country

And why you feel the need to confiscate my money?

Aye can’t you see I’m only here because I’m hungry

For five hundred years I had to head my stomach rumbling

I come in peace because you see my youth is humbling

Therefore I speak the truth, you know I never fronted

I studied Noble Dru and even Marcus Garvey

Still somehow they let this nerd inside the gangsta party

So I’m twisting up these herbs while everybody talking

From what I observe I’m sure it’s time to change the target

All you **** marching need to switch your vibes to marksmen

Empty cartridges until your opps is in them coffins

Dickies on the waist, Versace’s on the face

She gon make my plate, garlic butter steak

Feet up every day, chillin in the shade

Ain’t nobody trippin cause the money made

Sweetened to the taste I made lemonade

Sweetened to the taste sippin lemonade

Trying to find a way to make a hundred mill

Without selling my soul or have my spirit killed

But if k sign a deal and buy some diamonds that look real these people probably scream my name for like two hundred years

But tell me why you think that you should own my masters

When you ain’t said a word or wrote a single chapter

I know you probably heard that fame is what I’m after

Please excuse me cause it’s too hard to refrain from laughter

 

Listen to my sentiments, I’m only after Benjamin’s

So this is our predicament to settle all our differences

Plenty years spent perfecting my penmanship

Blood sweat and tears through your ears as you’re witnessing

The industry decline, I take them through a rewind

Reach in your pockets deep down, hand it here I need mine

I redefine what they call culture

Snatched it away from the vultures

Soaked the game up like a coaster, it’s over

Dickies on the waist, Versace’s on the fade

She gon make my plate, garlic butter steak

Feet up every day, chillin in the shade

Ain’t nobody trippin cause the money made

Sweetens to the taste, sippin lemonade

Sweetened to the taste, whippin lemonade

**** you a natural born hater

Mad cause I won’t do you no favors

Hating won’t get you no paper

You should go get your own paper

**** you a natural born hater

Mad cause I won’t do you no favors

You should go get your own paper

Hating won’t get you no paper