Tolerated Girl Talk & Freeway (Ft. Waka Flocka Flame)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Tolerated" by Girl Talk & Freeway (Ft. Waka Flocka Flame). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Hook: Freeway]
I think I tolerated all the haters I can stand
Pop off a slug just to send people a telegram
I think I tolerated all the hate I can stand
Flip-flops and drums, Afghanistan marching band (Ugh)
[Verse 1: Freeway]
I'm from PA state
When we step in, the people hate (Uh-huh)
Cause we floss (Floss!), we really ball, they really can't (Uh-huh)
Heavyweight (Weight!), we set 'em up
And they tip the bank (That's right)
Just give me a reason, I'll come through
And make that heater quake (Rrrah!)
Haters, get your block shot up (Shot up)
We get it popping, no battles
We send you shots to your apple, we leave it rotten
People hear about you watching
But don't hear about you rotting (Uh-uh)
Cross me, send you shots to your noggin, it's not a problem
See, I world tour just to get money (Uh-huh)
Hit the stu' to get my bank up (That's right)
Ain't no imposters, I do it proper
I'm Betty Crocker, got my cake up (That's right)
In the whip with a pretty bitch (Ugh), fat ass, two A-cups
I Audemars'd my wrists up, that's why they hate us, like—
I think I tolerated all the haters I can stand
Pop off a slug just to send people a telegram
I think I tolerated all the hate I can stand
Flip-flops and drums, Afghanistan marching band (Ugh)
[Verse 1: Freeway]
I'm from PA state
When we step in, the people hate (Uh-huh)
Cause we floss (Floss!), we really ball, they really can't (Uh-huh)
Heavyweight (Weight!), we set 'em up
And they tip the bank (That's right)
Just give me a reason, I'll come through
And make that heater quake (Rrrah!)
Haters, get your block shot up (Shot up)
We get it popping, no battles
We send you shots to your apple, we leave it rotten
People hear about you watching
But don't hear about you rotting (Uh-uh)
Cross me, send you shots to your noggin, it's not a problem
See, I world tour just to get money (Uh-huh)
Hit the stu' to get my bank up (That's right)
Ain't no imposters, I do it proper
I'm Betty Crocker, got my cake up (That's right)
In the whip with a pretty bitch (Ugh), fat ass, two A-cups
I Audemars'd my wrists up, that's why they hate us, like—
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