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quit hatin' pt. 1 - too $hort lyrics

[intro: lil’ jon]
yea, yea, e-yeahhhh! o-kayyyyyy – what, what?
wha’, what, what?
lil’ jon and the motherf-ckin eastside boyz! (yeahhhh)
short dawg! (yeahhhh) once again at yo’ -ss (yeahhhh!)
b-tch!! (yeah!) this go out to all the p-ssy n-ggas (listen here)
that see us when we walk in the club (wh-ssup)
and just be mean muggin!

[hook: lil’ jon – repeat 2x]
quit hatin motherf-cker, quit hatin!
quit hatin p-ssy n-gga, quit hatin!
god d-mnit motherf-ckahhh
god d-mnit motherf-ckahhh
quit hatin motherf-cker, quit hatin!
quit hatin p-ssy n-gga, quit hatin!
god d-mnit motherf-ckahhh
god d-mnit motherf-ckahhh

[verse 1: twista]
high cause i’m tokin the choke and smokin on purple haze and i’m coughin
got some new nike’s on my feet, even my caddy wear jordans
now b-tches be on my d-ck when i pull up in a platinum blue ‘llac
they come and spread they -ss crack, let me hit it from the back
on the flo’, they bend over, shake them t-tties and twurk them hips
with them lil’ ol’ thongs on, i can almost see they coochie lips
and she backin that thing up on me, so i do the d-mn thing and pop her
with a lil’ curl that ha-hangin proper, drunk off champagne and vodka
just cause it’s us in the club they krunk, it’s $hort and twista
and i know the ladies know we love to cut, i can tell it when they whisper
they say –
see the ballin n-ggas in the party
they came in new escalades
and i got a single, wanna get up in the lobby
i’m with that, come freak all in my body, it’s on
we about to break your back and your hip
smoke a sack and just sip
sit back and eat some immaculate shrimp
stackin chips as a mack and a pimp, in the club you gon’ bounce
but on the streets, my dro’ goin for, six hundred a ounce

[verse 2: too $hort]
show me love when you see me, don’t hate
if you take my woman from me, what you gon’ say?
charge it to the game, if i lose, i lose
you never know when a ho is wearin choosy shoes
you must be a magician cause you’re nothin but a trick
tryin to give her all your money, but whatchu gon’ get?
i get ’em all, suited at the player’s ball
up against the wall, just got another number to call
y’all see me i’m a real player, i do this nightly
you wanna fight me, cause you can’t be like me
all you hatin -ss suckers in the place
you better stop starin in my motherf-ckin face
too many jealous thoughts goin through yo’ mind
you mad like you guilty, goin to do some time
pay yo’ p-ssy bill n-gga if you want a date
but you just talkin sh-t i figure you just wanna hate
you hater!

[verse 3: v. white]
now you can catch me i-80 in the diamond lane gettin head
in the rearview, make a wrong move and i gotsta have your head
i put 23’s in the game on the avalanche and give you the blues
and blow white smoke up out the sunroof while we keep it on cruise
i ride with a hog in the back and the vogue in the back and you hatin on that
it’s just v. white, t. $hort, twista boy we blazin on track
it’s just that eastside psycho-chronological mind-stopper
keep a burner at yo’ waist while we serve these haters proper
you better get up, get out, get somethin; n-gga, and stop frontin
if i had no car and stayed with my momma then i’d be hatin on somethin
nah but nope, not me, i give ’em out, above the knee
you could catch one in the torso, b-2-1-2, f-ckin with me
now you can hate me all you want to cause i ain’t hard to find
i got hitters on payroll and parolees dyin to shine
that’ll leave a hole in your dome like rogaine, old school like road games
you can’t stop me from shinin, i’m highly flammable like propane

[outro: too $hort]
yeah we got some real players in this motherf-cker
too $hort, twista, v. white, lil’ jon, eastside boyz, delinquents
yeah we see you haters up in this motherf-cker
tryin to kick it like us real players
but you know what we gon’ do?
we gon’ sift you motherf-ckin haters out
and we gon’ beat yo’ motherf-ckin -ss

yeah that’s right, whup that hater’s -ss
beat his -ss!
like he stole somethin..

[lil’ jon] quit hatin motherf-cker, quit hatin!
[$hort] now slow it down for the r-t-rded people

- too hort lyrics

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