E-40

E-40 - Record Haters lyrics

Yo check it out.

Today we're here wit basketball star Rasheed Wallace.

(Yo what up kid?)

From the... what what what team is that you play for again?

(Sshh. The Bullets man.)

Yea right right.

So tell me Rasheed you know what I'm sayin this hip hop thang an everythang

goin on tell me I mean what what's yo flavor?

(Yo check it out kid I only like real hip hop man the real shit. You know

what I'm sayin. Redman, Wu-Tang, you know what I'm sayin. I don't fool wit

the Goodie Mob's, and I especially don't fool wit them E-40's.)

Verse 1

Nigga what the fuck they hit fo?

Nigga let's shoot fins

you got all the bread nigga

put up yo Benz

nah-nah, can't do that

Why not?

Ol skool trophy

somethin I done worked too hard fo

nigga quote me

yo swole bank rolls done turned to lil ol anarxins

get ready to pay the price ??? pee-wee no catchin

Who got change fo this brand new hundred?

Staight outta welfare

when I break you niggas I'm a have enough money, to buy a bare fare

spend about a half a hundred thousand

boost up my coins

preceed to spit mo supafly

than Donald Goins

this game is so damn hemrigin

that I be delivin

these niggas don't understand my shit

but they surrendurin

simmerin, rememberin things that, done jumped off

lyrics spit on niggas than a, a bad cough

messy hoes, got my name between they teeth

juss because... I'm from the WEST not the EAST

graduated from the dope game

phat ass wallets

What's that niggas name?

Rasheed Wallace!!

You gon' have to learn to respect yo elders mayne

I'm twomp bait nigga ain't no need for you to record hate

mind ya own, or ya own gon remind you

Nigga!!

The Click will biatch!

Chorus *(Big Lurch & E-40)*

Record Hatin bitches!

Suave game and snitches!

(Learn about it bitch!)

We should cease you from existance.

(That's right)

Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(Mutha fucka!)

Ya Record Hatin bitches

(Trademark.)

there's no way you could get wit this

(Stick to basketball nigga!)

we should cease you from existance

niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(Biatch!)

Verse 2

Got another mutha fucka on my shit list

I'm a cut off his dick list

I mean my hit list

my rest in piss list

dude that be hangin around Nas

you know, gay baby

nigga said some negative shit about me up in a magazine called "

after watchin "New York Undercover" while I was, takin a shit

Kool Keith was on the front cover that's when I

that's when I spotted him

that nigga AZ tried to say that I don't deserve a platinum plaque

nigga I was sellin tapes out the trunk of my car when you was runnin round

drinkin Simalac

all up in yo fake ass videos (ok)

champagne an coffin full of skrill nigga know damn well yo punk ass ain't

got had no mills

I'm payin full nigga an I'll have yo head where ever you at

I'm straight fool nigga seem like someone shoulda been an told ya that

bring the yellow tape nigga

jungle full of asphalt

don't make no sense to talk that talk if a nigga ain't gon' walk that walk

zip up yo lip befo' yo lip zip you up

Biatch!

Biatch!

I gives a fuck! Biatch!

It's major pain.

Nigga don't know a damn thang about me.

You mutha fuckas don't know nuttin bout no E-40 hoe!

Monkey mouthed biatch!

Biatch!

*(Chorus)*

Record Hatin bitches!

Suave game and snitches!

(Learn about it bitch!)

We should cease you from existance.

(That's right)

Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(Shouldn't be livin.)

Ya Record Hatin bitches!

(Record Hatin bitches!)

there's no way you could get wit this

(Uh.)

We should cease you from existance

(V-Town bitch!)

Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(E'ry time)

Verse 3

When I first started off niggas had me fucked

mutha fuckas was blind

in '89 that ol "Mr. Flamboyant" shit was

way ahead of his time

had everyone an they great grandmas off that

Carlos Rossi wine

was in a major label an business that uh

didn't want us to shine

it was me an my potna from Suave House Records

Tony Draper

E-40, an The Click

8-Ball, an MG gettin that

independent paper

all about my ruh-uh-rap

uh-should I shine

beat a mutha fucka uh-duh-down

e'ry time

40 get yo marbles man

get yo change

take a limosuine everywhere you go and fly private planes

that's what I was taught to do

by my big homie thou

you can always be a nigga, but a nigga ain't rich til he can't count his

money no mo'

over night sensation

never me

all you "Record Haters" got

Ph.IV

my niggas 3X Krazy laced me

taught me how to say "fa sheezy"

told me that them AZ mutha fuckas don't believe phat means greasy

we can shoot it out

or we can fight

You an Rasheeda wanna squash the funk?

Shoot me some peace bitch!

*(Chorus)*

Record Hatin bitches!

(Record hatin bitches!)

Suave game and snitches!

(Suave game and snitches!)

We should cease you from existance.

(That's rich.)

Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(Suck-els!)

Ya Record Hatin bitches

(Lil ol, biatch!)

There's no way you could get wit this

(That's right.)

We should cease you from existance

(Learn about it.)

Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.

(That's right

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