Mad Fo

[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 be a hater"

Tell me why you mad fo' (Remo the Hitmaker)

Hey, listen here, Luda, we gotta keep it real, boy

We gon' do it like this, baby

Listen here, you know what I'm sayin'? Luda

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz, Ludacris]

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Come around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars

(Yeah, time to start puttin' grown-ass men on time out)

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Go to the corner and cry somewhere, man)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Old, old insecure ass, nigga, yo' heart pump Kool-Aid, man)

Tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

(What you mad at me for? Luda)

[Verse 1: Ludacris]

Is it 'cause I got houses on every coast?

Or that I'm on that Forbes list makin' rich rappers look broke?

While they're blowin' that smoke, I'm blowin' a couple million, makin' a killin' stuntin' on impostors

Only rapper in the game with a Grammy and an Oscar (And the winner is, woo!)

Seven-figure movie deals, eight-figure bank runs

And I'm still feedin' the same hood that I came from (Yeah!)

Any car that you got, I've already drove

Any chick that you hit, my nigga, I've already hoed (I did, ow!)

Say it with your chest like these diamonds in my charm

Name on my headphones, label tatted on my arm (Oh!)

Air traffic control say, "Ludacris is insane"

That nigga daughter's birthday's the tail number on his plane (Tell 'em, real talk)

Fuck with me, but nobody fuckin' with me

Takin' a shot of cognac, more millions, real G's, chug it with me

If I'm happy, there's no reason you should be sad for (Why?)

So will somebody, can somebody please

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz, Meek Mill]

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Ha)

Come around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good (Skrrt)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

'Cause you be on the radio (Yeah) soundin' like you made a million dollars

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh (Ha)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Is you niggas hatin' 'cause you mad, or is you mad 'cause you hatin'?)

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Um)

(Choose one, hater)

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Oh) Huh

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]

Now if these niggas hatin' on me, I'ma kill 'em dead (Dead)

If I wasn't rappin', I'd be probably be in the feds

In the cell, gettin' mail, with a million-dollar bail

But instead of countin' blues, I'ma take this YSL

And this Gucci, and this Louis (Louis), Prada 'cause I'm hot (Hot)

I used to ball in Philly, with that nina Iguodala

I B7 my Beamer (Skrrt), check aboard my collar (Collar)

And when I check my bank account, I'm checkin' for them commas

I'm like all these niggas haters (Haters), all these bitches fuckin' (Fuckin')

At twenty-four, I went and bought a Ghost like it was nothin'

At twenty-five, I bought that Aston Martin, now we stuntin'

And you niggas still talkin', and all this money, shit, you bluffin'

You bluffin' (Bluffin'), you bluffin' (Bluffin'), I really think you bluffin' (Bluffin')

A hundred thousand dollars, man, on bottles just to crush 'em

Now tell me why you hatin'? You hatin' 'cause you mad?

Or is you mad because you hatin'? Boy, you sad

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz, Meek Mill, Chris Brown]

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Ha)

Come around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Haha, look, yeah, okay) Huh

[Verse 3: Chris Brown]

I see why you mad, I'm countin' all this money

And I'm poppin' all these tags, hoppin' to it, fuckin' bunnies

Real nigga, one hundred, you tryna do it, I done it

I spit sick on this rap shit, make 'em sick to they stomach

I'm clean and you hatin', mad 'cause I made it, keep it real with a real nigga

I got racks on racks and a black Maybach, call it black on black 'cause I kill niggas

In the club, all girls, no niggas, don't talk to me 'cause I ain't really tryna hear niggas

In the coupe, it's the truth and the roof go poof, vamoose, I can make it disappear, nigga

See this the type of shit that I be sayin'

Just because I'm ballin', that don't mean a nigga playin'

Yup, haters can blow me like a fan

Flyer than a bitch, I don't think I'ma ever land

But in the meantime, baby, what's your plan?

You can call me daddy, but I can't be your man

Fiendin' like they addicts, when I pull it out, they panic

Bi-Bi-Bitch, I do damage, you gon' need an ambulance

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Come around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Ayy, showtime)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Put one hand in the air if you know somebody that's mad at you right now for no reason)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Can you hear me now?) Huh (Ayy)

[Verse 4: Swizz Beatz]

Ayy, ridin' around in my Jeep (Jeep, ayy), bumpin' that 2Pac (Rock, oh)

I'm walkin' 'round in my hood (Hood, damn), cocked back two Glocks (Glocks, damn)

In '98, in my status (Status, hey), I came back, I'm the baddest (Baddest)

Christian's on my feet (Damn), I told you, I'm the baddest (Ayy)

All the way in Paris (Yeah), don't talk, you'll get embarrassed (Ayy)

My watch is fuckin' up (Ayy), yeah, you get embarrassed (Oh)

Five hunnid on them racks (Get 'em), pulled out them stacks (G's, oh)

See, bitches talkin' crazy (Crazy), drop top Maybachs (Oh, get 'em)

My life is just ludicrous (Woo), sucker, you just new to this

430's pullin' up (Skrrt), goddamn, we do this shit (Ayy)

Chickens and the waffles (Ayy), chillin' in the villa

Bumpin' Ludaversal, gettin' that scrilla

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz, Pusha T]

Tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

Come around the hood (Ayy), see us sittin' there lookin' good

(Ladies and gentlemen)

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Ayy)

'Cause you be on the radio (Right) soundin' like you made a million dollars (Oh, hands up)

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? (Yuugh) Huh

Tell me, what they mad fo'? (Woo)

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

(Hey, Luda, you know why these haters mad right?)

Tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

(The truth shall set you free)

[Verse 5: Pusha T]

If you sellin' all the records and you fuckin' all the bitches

And you sit on top of 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 bitches was never really your bitches

With your baby mama fuckin' every rapper in the business

Niggas sayin' you was better when the drugs was in your system

Now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison

Got you tweetin' all stupid, is you skatin'? Is you dissin'?

Found out your Ghost leased and your Phantom just rented

Won't leave it in your name like Pac when he went missin'

Makaveli lives on, so I'm ridin' on you bitches

Hail Mary be the witness, Lord Willin', I was dealin'

Stupid motherfuckin' five star tatted on his ceilin'

Bullseye, be the motherfuckin' target for this killin'

Ain't y'all the motherfuckers with the millions?

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Come around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars

Ayy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Tell me, what they mad fo'?

Tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh