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Record Label Hater Lyrics


Paris Record Label Hater


[Verse 1:]
Now what would you do if I blast
All up in your shit, mother f..ck the whole staff
Niggas non-flow, nine millimeter ?shit than slug?
I'm seeing bloody bodies on the motherfucking rug
6 O'clock be the time, if it's on, let it be
You see it in my eyes, ?riding boo, hella deep sea?
But you ain't gone do me like you did the lenchmob
I'm decorated in this game, I played too motherfucking long
Now, I ain't gotta name nobody name
All I'm knowing is the whole f..cking roster is complaining
Talking 'bout these white boys trying to do promotions
And white bitches trying to get f..ck by these soldiers
F..cking wit that slang like you down but now hold on
Seen that ass enough to get your devil ass stoled on
F..cking wit the wrong nigga, playing wit my cash
I'm known for putting devils on they motherfucking back
Blast through the front door, what the f..ck, I'm 'posed to talk
F..ck court, I'll be a dead nigga 'fore you walk
Blaow, now the nine had no motherfuckng mercy
So who the sexy nigga, bitch, record label murder

[Chorus: girl sings in background]
Now we feel free to start some shit
Motherfucker shoulda quit
Out for each and every dime, seem like every time
I turn around, some jacky motherfucker trying to take what's mine
Got the whole f..cking clique
Now we fit to start some shit
Got these niggas out the zoo for the job
Bow down or motherfucker you can die when we start robbing

[Verse 2:]
So many times I've seen these niggas f..cked up out they chips
'Cause they didn't know the game, only making 10 percent
Dealing wit these f..cking jews, now you losing everytime
How many platinum niggas standing in the county line
Make you want to get your brick and snatch his ass up out the car
Baby renegotiate, f..cking wit them scars
Now you asking who I'm talking 'bout, homie you could pick
This whole industry got niggas' shit on whitey dick
And now, since I'm a soldier known to speak my f..cking mind
I'ma put you up on game everytime I start to rhyme
F..ck that devil, get your own man, learn about some shit
Or be another broke nigga telling what he did
And now I think you know that I really gives a f..ck
???? 'cause I'm God that the devil try his luck
Last man standing up for the truth, say you heard it
These players getting played homie, record label murder

[Chorus]



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