This is a song about "Hate"

Dropped out of school never made it to the 12th grade

And these lames will forever hate/

Why do people have to hate

She self made, i'm self made

// [you show me nothing but hate]

Tonight no pitchers, everything's straight

Talk sharp like a razor blade

To all them haters that hate

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

No room for love, just consumed by hate

Now i'm self made; and i'm high paid

Golly wolly i, still hear the hate

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

Its the things that i hate

Why do people have to hate

Cop a car, new estate