Why can't they go away, bothering me are they really
That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free
They ask me why i praise like that
She just laughs as her life starts flashing back
Pitchfork doesn't need a plate
Why do people have to hate
They ain't heard me yet, that's why they sound like fuckin' owls/
We in the field building muscle while you watch the house
Now all these haters gonna always hate on me
They giving pounds and that before get the money
Nigga, i'm a bastard, i fuck with chord keys
Blame it on brandies, make me hate these pansies
Why are they creeping up under me
A military mind mean money
But not the numbers i makeload up that wild boy
Turn the hate on, eyes on me with their kiddie coy
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