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 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-ass men on time out

Go to the corner and cry somehwere man

Old insecure ass nigga

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 killing 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, nigga 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 niggas daughter’s birthday’s the tail number on his plane

Fuck with me but nobody’s fucking 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 niggas hating ’cause you mad

Or is you mad ’cause you hating?

Choose one, hater

Now if these niggas hating on me I’mma kill 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 niggas haters, all these bitches fucking

At 24 I went and bought a Ghost like it was nothing

At 25 I bought that Aston Martin, now we stunting

And you nigga still talking all this money shit 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, Fucking bunnies

Real nigga, One hundred

You trying to do it, I done it

I spit sick on this rap shit

Make them sick to they stomach

I’m clean man, you hate

Mad ’cause I’m gonna 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 trynna 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 saying

Just because I’m balling, that don’t mean a nigga playing

Haters can blow me like a fan

Flyer than a bitch, 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

Bitch 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

Cocked 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 embarrassed

My watch is fucking…

Yeah you get embarassed

My life is just Ludacris

Sucka you just new to this

430s pulling up

God damn we do this shit

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 fuckin’ all the bitches

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 bitches was never really your bitches

With your baby mama fucking every rapper in the business

Niggas 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 bitches

Hail Mary be the witness, Lord Willin’ I was dealing

Stupid motherfucking five star, tatted on his ceiling

Bullseye, be the motherfucking target for this killing

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

[Hook]