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meek mill - mad fo lyrics

[intro: swizz beatz]
you know one thing i hate
it’s when a person come up to me
or i hear somebody say “it must be nice”
you know my answer that
is “you must me a hater”
tell me why you mad for
listen luda we gotta keep it real boy
we gonna do it like this baby
listen here you know what i’m saying

[hook: swizz beatz]
tell me what they mad for
come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good
tell me what they mad for
cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
tell me what they mad for

[verse 1: ludacris]
time to start putting grown–ss men on time out
go to the corner and cry somehwere man
old insecure -ss n-gga
your heart pump kool-aid man
what you mad at me for
is it cause i got houses on every coast
or that i’m on that forbes list making rich rappers look broke
while they’re blowing that smoke
i’m blowing a couple million
making a k!lling stunting on impostors
only rapper in the game with a grammy and an oscar
7-figure movie deals, 8 figure bank runs
and i’m still feeding the same hood that i came from
any car that you got i’ve altready drove
any chick that you hit, n-gga i’ve already ho’d
say it with your chest like these diamonds on my tongue
name on my headphones, label tatted on my arm
air traffic control say “ludacris is insane”
that n-ggas daughter’s birthday’s the tail number on his plane
f-ck with me but n0body’s f-cking with me
take in the sight of my cognac, more millions
real g’s chug it with me
if i’m happy there’s no reason you should be sad for
so will somebody, can somebody please…

[hook]

[verse 2: meek mill]
ha!
is you n-ggas hating ’cause you mad
or is you mad ’cause you hating?
choose one, hater
now if these n-ggas hating on me i’mma k!ll them dead
if i wasn’t rapping i’d be probably be in the fifth
in the cell, getting mail, with a million dollar bail
but instead of counting blues, i’mma take this ysl
and this gucci, and this louis, prada ’cause i’m hotter
i used to ball in philly, with that nina and get dollars
i beefs up in my bimmer, check aboard my collar
and when i check my bank account
i’m checking for them commas
i’m like all these n-ggas haters, all these b-tches f-cking
at 24 i went and bought a ghost like it was nothing
at 25 i bought that aston martin, now we stunting
and you n-gga still talking all this money sh-t you bluffing
you bluffing, you bluffing, i really think you bluffing
100,000 dollars man them bottles we just crush ‘em
now tell me why you hating? you hating ’cause you mad?
or is you mad because you hating, boy you sad

[hook]

[verse 3: chris brown]
ok, i see why you mad, i’m counting all this money
and i’m popping all these tags
hopping to it, f-cking bunnies
real n-gga, one hundred
you trying to do it, i done it
i spit sick on this rap sh-t
make them sick to they stomach
i’m clean man, you hate
mad ’cause i’m gonna keep it real with a real n-gga
i got racks on racks, and a black maybach
call it black on black, cause i k!ll n-ggas
in the club all girls, no n-ggas don’t talk to me
‘cause i ain’t really trynna hear n-ggas
in the coupe it’s the truth
and the roof go poof, vamoose
i can make it disappear n-gga
see this the type of sh-t that i be saying
just because i’m balling, that don’t mean a n-gga playing
haters can blow me like a fan
flyer than a b-tch, i don’t think i’mma ever land
but in the meantime, baby what’s your plan
you can call me daddy but i can’t be your man
fiending like the addicts, when i pull it out they panic
b-tch i do damage, you gonna need an ambulance

[hook]

[verse 4: swizz beatz]
showtime
put one hand in the air if you know somebody
that’s mad at you right now for no reason
riding around in my jeep
bumping that 2pac
i’m walking around in my hood
c-cked back two glocks
98 in my status
i came back i’m the baddest
christian’s on my feet
i told you i’m the baddest
all the way in paris
don’t talk you’ll get embarr-ssed
my watch is f-cking…
yeah you get embar-ssed
my life is just ludacris
sucka you just new to this
430s pulling up
god d-mn we do this sh-t
chickens and the waffles
chilling in the villa
bumping ludaversal
getting that scrilla

[hook]

[verse 5: pusha t]
yuck!
hey luda, you know why these haters mad for right?
the truth shall set you free
if you sellin’ all the records and you f-ckin’ all the b-tches
and you sit a top of the charts and you livin’ out your wishes
with your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered
and your ghost and your phantoms all comin’ home to visit
or maybe cause your b-tches was never really your b-tches
with your baby mama f-cking every rapper in the business
n-ggas saying you was better when the drugs was in your system
now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison
got you tweeting all stupid, is you skatin’, is you dissin’
found out your ghost leased and your phantom just rented
won’t need it in your name like pac when he went missing
makaveli lives on so i’m riding on you b-tches
hail mary be the witness, lord willin’ i was dealing
stupid motherf-cking five star, tatted on his ceiling
bullseye, be the motherf-cking target for this k!lling
ain’t y’all the motherf-ckers with the millions?

[hook]

- meek mill lyrics

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