feat. Meek Mill, Chris Brown, Swizz Beatz, Pusha T
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You know one thing I hate?
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It's when a person come up to me or
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I hear somebody say 'it must be nice'
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You know my answer to that is 'you must me a hater'
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Tell me why you mad for
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Listen Luda we gotta keep it real, boy
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We gonna do it like this baby
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Listen here you know what I'm saying
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Tell me what they mad for
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Come around the hood
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See us sitting there looking good
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Tell me what they mad for
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'Cause you be on the radio
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Sounding like you made a million dollars
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Tell me what they mad for
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Time to start putting grown-ass men on time out
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Go to the corner and cry somewhere, man
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Old insecure ass nigga
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Your heart pump Kool-Aid, man
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What you mad at me for?
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Is it 'cause I got houses on every coast
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Or that I'm on that Forbes list making rich rappers look broke
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While they're blowing that smoke I'm blowing a couple million
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Making a killing, stunting on impostors
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Only rapper in the game with a Grammy and an Oscar
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7 figure movie deals, 8 figure bank runs
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And I'm still feeding the same hood that I came from
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Any car that you got I've already drove
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Any chick that you hit, my nigga I've already hoed
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Say it with your chest like these diamonds on my tongue
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Name on my headphones, label tatted on my arm
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Air traffic control say 'Ludacris is insane'
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That nigga's daughter's birthday is the tail number on his plane
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Fuck with me but nobody fucking with me
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Take in the sight of my cognac, more millions
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Real G's chug it with me
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If I'm happy there's no reason you should be sad foe
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So will somebody, can somebody please
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Tell me what they mad for
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Come around the hood
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See us sitting there looking good
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Tell me what they mad for
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'Cause you be on the radio
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Sounding like you made a million dollars
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Tell me what they mad for
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Tell me what they mad for
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Is you niggas hating 'cause you mad
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Or is you mad 'cause you hating?
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Choose one, hater
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Now if these niggas hating on me I'mma kill them dead
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If I wasn't rapping I'd be probably be in the fifth
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In the cell, getting mail, with a million dollar bail
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But instead of counting blues, I'mma take this YSL
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And this Gucci, and this Louis, Prada 'cause I'm hotter
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I used to ball in Philly, with that Nina and get dollars
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I peace out in my beamer, check aboard my collar
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And when I check my bank account I'm checking for them commas
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I'm like all these niggas haters, all these bitches fucking
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At 24 I went and bought a Ghost like it was nothing
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At 25 I bought that Aston Martin, now we stunting
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And you nigga still talking all this money, shit you bluffing
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You bluffing, you bluffing, I really think you bluffing
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100,000 dollars man, them bottles we just crush 'em
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Now tell me why you hating? You hating 'cause you mad?
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Or is you mad because you hating, boy you sad
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Tell me what they mad for
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Come around the hood
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See us sitting there looking good
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Tell me what they mad for
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'Cause you be on the radio
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Sounding like you made a million dollars
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Tell me what they mad for
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Tell me what they mad for
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Tell me what they mad for
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Tell me what they mad for
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Ok, I see why you mad, I'm counting all this money
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And I'm popping all these tags
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Hopping to it, fucking bunnies
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Real nigga, one hundred
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You trying to do it, I done it
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I spit sick on this rap shit
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Make them sick to their stomach
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I'm clean man, you hating
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Mad 'cause I'm gonna keep it real with a real nigga
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I got racks on racks, and a black Maybach
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Call it black on black, 'cause I kill niggas
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In the club all girls, no niggas don't talk to me
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'Cause I ain't really tryina hear niggas
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In the coupe it's the truth and the roof go poof, vamoose
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I can make it disappear, nigga
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See, this the type of shit that I be saying
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Just because I'm balling, that don't mean a nigga playing
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Yeah, haters can blow me like a fan
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Flyer than a bitch, I don't think I'mma ever land
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But in the meantime, baby what's your plan?
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You can call me daddy but I can't be your man
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Fiending like the addicts, when I pull it out they panic
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Bitch I do damage, you gonna need an ambulance
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| Tell me |
