lirik lagu m.h.p (most hated playa) – jap5
m.h.p (most hated playa) lyrics
[excerpt from the movie “baby boy”]
“i know you understand that brothers ain’t perfect, but we try, lord
we try to keep our heads up in bad times this is a bad time. show us the way. and if you can’t show us the way, forgive us for being lost.”
[intro: j*p5, unkn]
amen. [?] productions
[chorus: j*p5]
i’m the most hated player, they hate my name
they hate that i’m a shooter, they hate my aim
they know that i’m from hoover, they hate my game
i just copped a new cuban, now they hate my chain
i’m the most hated player, they hate my name
they hate that i’m a shooter, they hate my aim
they know that i’m from hoover, they hate my game
i just copped a new cuban, now they hate my chain
[verse 1: j*p5]
you n*ggas hate me but your b*tches, don’t like me but your hoes do
this hoover piper get her booty right like soul food
i ain’t gon’ lie her p*ssy fire, head cold too
she suck me dry i nutted in her eye, she say i’m so rude
fresh out the pen already back on my sh*t
same hoe from three years ago back on my d*ck
i got cheese, that’s why all these rats on my d*ck
i dropped a rack for the fully automatic on my hip
they say blood thicker than water, but at least water see through
it’s a whole lot of sh*t i do at night that n*ggas sleep through
didn’t care to go to collage, but i graduated street school
[?] at every subject i been in jail since pre*school
hit the pen and got my size up, now i’m finna’ hit the beach
in the set i’m known for having intercourse with different freaks
looking for me, you can find me where the b*tches be
i know this red head with the [?] i feel like she missing t**th
i’m always on my grind ’couse i don’t got time to struggle
bullsh*t off my mind ‘couse i ain’t really time for trouble
i just f*ck a b*tch and dip, ain’t got no time to cuddle
told the homies to run a play, ‘couse i ain’t had no time to huddle
[chorus 2: j*p5]
i’m the most hated player, they hate my name
they hate that i’m a shooter, they hate my aim
they know that i’m from hoover, they hate my game
i just copped a new cuban, now they hate my chain
i’m the most hated player, they hate my name
they hate that i’m a shooter, they hate my aim
they know that i’m from hoover, they hate my game
i just copped a new cuban, now they hate my chain
[verse 2: j*p5]
a hundred [?], a hundred nights, you n*ggas wasn’t proud of that
i was present in the field where it started at
where you n*ggas caught all them bullets, i was quarterback
sliding with the choppa’, you n*ggas was having heart attacks
pipe to his mouth smoke a n*gga like a crackhead
paralyze a dummy, hit his tummy leave him half dead
my n*ggas eat, we all full you n*ggas half fed
before i hit the county, on my momma i done had dreads
i had my sh*t dreaded up, looking like a rastaman
everywhere i go, its war feel like i’m in pakistan
choppa on my lap, head wrapped like a taliban
you ain’t got no bodies you ain’t even shot a man
i ain’t with no driving by
b*tch i’m with the walk up
i skip through with the mp5 and shoot a n*gga block up, on aim
i just bang a top thinking a n*gga chopped up, the i’m back to the set so i can put this choppa’ up. (gang)
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