Haters Lloyd Banks

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
You already know what it is, and you know what I got
And I know how it feel, it feel like somethin' hot
I'm, clean as a Kodak; mean, and you know that
Murder you niggas with a sixteen throwback
Lean in my old 'lac; label, the bungalow's at
Humble and all that; old money's my door mat
They on my balls at, even before rap
It's time to let the monster loose; even the score back
I need a cooler coupe
A Honolulu shoot, where the bitches dance like they inside a hula-hoop
The teacher; for a few mil I'll tudor dude
Front and see a man with a mask, you won't know who to shoot
I'm callin' you the fruit, you softer than noodle soup, or baby shit
You niggas are startin' to make me sick
This is the latest twist, add it to my greatest hits
It ain't for the radio, but they gon' still play this shit

[Hook: Lloyd Banks]
I must admit, that I'm the shit
Just day-dreamin' 'bout the money I can get
I got a shoulder with a chip, and I rock it in my whip
Cause niggas act funny when they come around here
You's a hater; you hate that I'm fresh, hate that I'm fly
Hate that I'm real, hate that I ride