Musical Freedom

[Talking]

Ben Hated (Guy):

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey

Man, hey

Check thi-, Stop that lil' shawty right there

Stop lil' shawty right there

(Who, that lil' girl over there?)

Yeah, get her, yeah get here fa' me

Guy (Girl):

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, come here gurl, hey, look here...

(I know you aint talkin to me)

Hey, hey, shut up gurl, (What?!?! SHUT UP?!?!)

Hey, look here, look here, look here

My boy, Ben Hated, he... he wanna holla at you, (WHAT?!?!) my boy...

(Ben Hated?!?!I see why his black ass "been hated",

look what y'all ridin in) What?

Bitch...Muthafuck...Kick rocks, fuck you!

*Takes off, honking horn*

Bitch

[Chorus]

Steppin outta Escalades & Navigators

We makin it so they cant fade us (They cant fade us)

So we got to reach our goals

Pushin platinum sellin gold (sellin gold)

Steppin outta Escalades & Navigators

We makin it so they cant fade us (They cant fade us)

So we got to reach our goals

Pushin platinum sellin gold (If you aint know)

[Ben Hated]

I stand here all night dressed like mo do's

Hustlin up outta four doors

Candy Caprices no mo', Escalades twankin Momo's

Who lookin, boy we is so pro, slow is just how we seem

Yayo weighed up on beams, for geekers that wanna dream

That's how I made my cream

With a down ass hoe, and a down as scheme

And a down as team fulla down ass niggaz that's down for green

I see how y'all watch and wait, hope I decide to navigate late

Dont run up wrong and meet your fate maker

Long as I get your weight maker

They call me Mr. Bossy, molases paint silver glossy

Fuck what it cost me, I'm Mr. Flossy get the hell off me

Ben Hate bout G's, Ben Hate 'bout multiplatinum CD's

Hell, Hate bout grind, Ben Hate bout hustle, Ben Hate bout mine

Steppin out this time, in aligators, glock for them haters

Hollow tips so they cant fade us, big money makers

You see me on the seen so clean, black magic gleam

Draped up in orange & blue (orange & blue), rollin wit' my team

Chorus

[Re-Re]

Hell nah

Hell it aint road, industry execs see me

Guys leave, my flow be so lovely

Comin through like the folks in the back door

See me, be like Puffy gotta get the dough

Gonna let me ride the track

Seein how these folks be makin tha money stack

Matter of fact cant call the cat

Cause they chillin like a bad rat breakin off cheese like a Kit-Kat

Now check that, the man with the Rolex and the diamonds in his hand

Girls in the club wanna holla Cause they think he is the man

But I cant stand them pretty ass bitches and niggaz they gettin up on my nerves

And while they in my face, they actin fake, I'm kickin 'em to the curb

So what it concern, on whether I ball or stand on my own 2 feet

Got you niggaz dislikin me , they cant get like me

I'm jumpin five bitches, over five geeks

Dont make no sense 'til you ask me

Cause I'm on top, make you wanna have me

I'm just smoke a blunt, march 2 steps in front

Cause haters aint never gon find me

Try to put the mean mug on when I come around

Nigga like you wanna give me a pound

But you comin at me like you brainy

Talkin 'bout you just wanna be down

Yeah right, nigga know you cant get wit' Re

So you better just have a seat

I'm on top my game, that's why you know my name

I done hit that fame now what it's gon be

Chorus

Ben Hated:

Wood grippin, Henn sippin

Pistol hold and pistol whippin

All lames that talk 'bout trickin

Dump them thangs and get to dippin

Type of niggaz, that slide all custom trucks

With the dubs, all chrome, grill bars, and them 2-colored cuts

Pros, stand on the block, they nuts

Sick of them thugs and cut-butts

Jump in the 'Lac and shawty get cut

Hop in the 'Gator woe's get stuck, what's up

These bustaz wanna try me, I pull they girl when they alk by me

Leave 'em upset lookin mad, and dog, face lookin sad

I dont sweat these pros man, I lick these pros man

And I bent these pros, Jump in the car with ballers on Vogues

If you got a Benz with them ends you cn freak out her friends

Sent that tramp out to your partnaz lake, night shake the show stoppers

Welcome to my game, I do this thang wit' no shame

And if them folks ask, then tell 'em my name, Mr. Ghetto Fame

I dont say no words just lay it back

Let my girl hold on my strap

I dont trust these lames

I fuckin crush these lames, touch these lames

Chorus