The definition of a playa hater:

A busta

A bitch with a dick

A violator of the Sixth Bar of the Mack Game

Busta with a complex

"Man, you know that nigga Khayree ****in Mac Mall out his money, man

You know that nigga Lay ain't gon' get paid

I heard Ray Luv in jail and shit"

Little old bitch-ass mutha****as

Mac Mall

Young Lay

Ray Luv

I'mma need y'all to come in, man

I need the whole Young Black Brotha Records line-up to come in

And spit some game to these lil' old bitches with dicks

Playa-hatin busta-ass nuthin-ass niggas

Now you nuthin-ass niggas check game

Hey playa, don't it be a point in your life

Where you just wanna smoke a mutha****a, man?

(**** yeah!)

Man you get to trippin on some of that wild shit

Hoes and flauntin shit

A nigga tryina kick back, man, you know

Be real about his fetti though

They all in a nigga mix

What's up, Mac Mall, Ray Luv

What's up, playas?

Hey man, that be them inner way-ass niggas, Lay

'Cause it's like this, man:

When my album came out, man

Next thing you know it's a million mutha****as in my face

Askin me so many questions

Shit...

Young Ray Luv, what's up man?

(Jealous-ass muthfa****as...)

Yo, we tryina come real about the fetti though

(Hell yeah)

That's right

Check this out

You know we all about that money, man

Got no time to be trippin on that stupid shit

Little old biaatch

Ah, it's goin down

(That's right)

But anyway

Who finna serve em some of that old pimp shit, man?

(I think Ray Luv)

Your nigga Young Ray Luv in the house

(I think I'm finna come on first)

Tell em mutha****as

[Verse 1: Ray Luv]

One mo' time for the streets of Killa Cali

Grew up on the dank and shootin' dice up in the alley

Back when niggas had names like Rock Tee, Chin and Butta

O.G. game from the mutha****in gutter

I guess it was cool when a nigga had no riches

'Cause niggas didn't P.H. and run they mouths like bitches

Much love for the hood, what up, nigga, where's my homies?

Show love for these niggas, but they ain't got no love for me

Jealous as **** when I got love from the Crest niggas

But all I get is mean mugs from you West niggas

Now that I think these mutha****as is so funny

Gon' peel a nigga's cap for a trick-ass nobody

(Mac Mall: You better check your heart and your brain, mayne

I think you niggas need to get up on some game, mayne)

Picked up on your hoe, I'm gettin jocked by your steady

All I want the money though, I'm all about my fetti

Nigga

[Chorus: Khayree & (Ray Luv)]

Money money money's all I know

I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes

Money money money's all I see

You need to get some game and quit ****in with me

Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

[Verse 2: Mac Mall]

Now half of these niggas is falsified

The rest is full of mess, so they tend to hide

A lotta them is cowards who be actin hard

Some is tired-ass tricks who will never get far

Some is straight dopefiends tryina grind they lley

But they still pushin pebbles to this mutha****in day

Some start funk over hoes and blame it on somethin else

Them niggas need to check theyself

But the sucker that I hate the most

Is the busta full of envy, mad cauz he broke

Every night he be stressin, thinkin that his hoe wanna get me

I wouldn't **** her with yo dick, she ain't got nothin to give me

Cuz your nigga is broke, so hoe, I know you're starvin

So you won't have to worry about Mac Mall harmin

Your boyfriend and girlfriend relationship

I got my money and my cuddies, who needs a bitch?

Mac Mall will never get played

I'mma stay Ses ways

And you know I'm all about that money

[Chorus: Khayree & (Mac Mall)]

Money money money's all I know

(That's all I know, nigga)

I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes

(**** them hoes and them niggas)

Money money money's all I see

(That's all I see in the Triple C)

You need to get some game and quit ****in with me

(Stop ****in with me)

Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(Yeah, my nigga Young Lay, come serve them fools)

[Verse 3: Young Lay]

Gettin blimped with a tramp up on a [?] confusin what's right

To hide the doubt, so I grab my money and my lle', hey

Why do us youngsters be so nervous?

Niggas creepin all through these turfs

Plus these po-po's tryin to serve us, yeah

But I kick back and just act with my ****in clan

And kick that gangsta rap and spit about my gangsta macks

On rap tracks and spit for those that copy free

And give 'em they dap and tell 'em it ain't a day without drink and weed

G's get stacked, now who's a mack, yeah, the nigga shook ya

Ki's of crack get cut down, but but not by the cooker

But yo, the crookers, watchin me all the time

But I keep lookin and keep a nine by my spine

Or to my side, 'cause when I ride you'll never know

But if it's over some dough, Young Lay is quick to let it go

And let him know, nigga, that this is loc side

Home of the Mac, playa pros, squares run and hide

'Cause tonight we gonna do it just like this

But if your ho is choosin, nigga, the mic's in my fist

Some of this mixed with a whole lotta that

Old threw in with new, it made my fetti fat

[Chorus: Khayree & (Young Lay)]

Money money money's all I know

I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes

Money money money's all I see

You need to get some game and quit ****in with me

Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

Moneeey...Moneeey

Moneeey...Moneeey

Ah yeah

Youknowmsayin?

There it is right there

And there you have it, mutha****as

Straight mutha****in game

From three pimpin-ass young playin- ass mutha****as

Ray Luv, Mac Mall, and Young pimpin-ass Lay

Youknowmsayin?

They just touched it on that 6th bar of them 32 mutha****in bars

You mutha****in busta-ass niggas with complexes

Broke punk-ass mutha****as that always got your mutha****in nose into somebody else shit

Now what you need to be doin is gettin your own mutha****in game tight

You understand me?

And eh - youknowmsayin

Put some fetti in your own mutha****in pockets

'stead of runnin round here talkin bout what the **** is we doin, youknowmsayin?

'Cause we straight dwellin on the green

Ain't got no time for the in-between, youknowmsayin?

So all you busta-ass niggas

**** y'all, we all about the fetti,