Hate - Z-Ro, Z-Ro feat. Billy Cook, Jr.

Hey why they hate me like I stole something, that make a nigga wanna roll

something

But I’m they closest partner, if I let em hold something

Good for nothing, but making me hate my peers

So let the whole world, taste my tears

When they roll they represent anger, paranoid with one in the chamber

Deliver heads shots to my foes, and make them do a gainer

And when they splash it’s a blood bath

And I trust no one ain’t no more chunking up the deuce, when my thugs pass

Live my life in silentary confinement, away from y’all

If I needed artillery, could I even get the K from y’all

I’m all alone in the ways of the wicked, since I can’t stand you hoes

Forever lonely when I kick it, in the lumino

With straps and shells, my life is murder and mail

The opposition see me coming, and they blast they self

This for my homies that don’t know me, when I’m broke

Swear to God I hope you motherfuckers choke, when my gun smoke, hate

The H is for these hoe niggas that’s all in my face

And the A is for the actions that these bitch niggas take

And the T is for the tommy gun that’s bout to blast

And the E is for eternal cause I ever last

I be feeling like Pac, because I wonder if they still down

Facing homicide from haters, but my homies didn’t even spill rounds

Fuck y’all, I hate you motherfuckers to death

Remember times, when I stopped niggas from clutching your chest

I live in bulletproof vests, but it seems

The only time I got family, is when a nigga dream

So fuck sleep, I’m on a 24 hour grind

Look at your darling son, now mama I’m out of my mind

I don’t know how to be happy and I can’t smile

And fuck a bitch cause she be plotting on how to get you, when y’all walking

down the isle

The same motherfuckers that you care for

Look how they do you, they don’t love you pick up your pistol and therefor

Represent yourself with the plastic

Cause me myself, wanna put all of you motherfuckers in caskets

Fuck love, unless it’s coming from the heaven up above

My hatred being written in blood, hate

There ain’t no telling if a nigga make it, I might be stuck in the slums

A walking target, steady ducking the gun

Believe in me and you can keep your wife

There’ll be no hostages, just give me what I’m looking for and keep your life

I’m military minded, you can ask Klondike Kat

Even if they bomb first, Z-Ro about to bomb right back

I give a fuck about your life now, slugs hitting your windpipe now

Guess you could say, I’m living shife now

All about my fetty, till I bubble like some champagne

Z-Ro the Crooked, the most valuable player up in this rap game

So back back-back back, be sure to give me more than fifty

Automatic rounds, down to pass that

Murder my foes, then I murder my friends

Because they turned on a nigga, when I ain’t have no ends, hate

Murder my foes, then I murder my friends

Because they turned on a nigga, when a nigga wasn’t chopping a Benz, hate