Drama

[Hook:]

These haters, up in the game

They really don't want drama, drama no

Them boys, up in the game

They really don't want drama, drama no

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na-na, no

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na-na, no

[Billy Cook:]

These haters in the game, gon make me pop a vein

Hotter than four bowls of Mexican chili, on the top of a stove boiling mayn

These boys better save that drama, for they baby mama

Keep my name out your mouth, and watch what you say

I'm calling niggaz out one by one, two by two and your weak ass crew

You bring the best out of me, now tell me what you gon do

Peep the real and I peep the fake, load lyrical clips up in the AK

And I'm B.M.G. 1965, black T fitted cap and I'm certified

Always smiling, up in my face

Talking that shit, and I'm gon catch a case

Who's that going around, talking down on Billy Cook

Saying, that he ain't the truth in the booth

And he only sing hooks locally, and he ain't in the game

[Hook]

[H.A.W.K.:]

These boys don't really want drama, put that on Pat and my mama

It's mash point period comma, I blow shit up like that boy Osama

Bin Laden boys be plotting, fuck around and you get shot'n

Fuck around and you'll get caught, and they'll be digging your burial plot'n

See H.A.W.K. don't play them games, don't mess around with no names

I cock back load and aim, and put a big hole in the ceiling your brain

That boy is off the chain, that boy is off the hook

That boy got the Southside shook, cause he finally did a song with Billy Cook

Got haters green with envy, that's just that Fat Pat in me

Them haters wanna know who we are, when they see you coming down in a brand new Bentley

Ask around if you in H-Town, they'll tell you I don't play around

They'll tell you that pound for pound, Big H.A.W.K. will make you lay it down

And to these messy girls, don't make me rock your world

I'll give you some'ing good, that's bound to make your toes curl

Have you chasing after nuts like a squirrel, baby girl I call it karma

You keep on giving me the good, but baby save the drama

[Hook]

[Meechie:]

Pull up on your block, in a all white Lac

With a all black mack, fully compact gat

Step back shake, them haters off my nutsack

I'm from the city, where the coke and the clutch at

Slug hair back, for the love of the game

Leave a hater face down, like the brother of Kane

Never think yours, that'll smother your brain

Lethal weapon like Glover, going out with a bang

Y'all don't want drama, with some mud city bangers

Cook/H.A.W.K. and Blow, now that spell danger

I'll send em in your house, all up in your hamper

Or leave your mama holding her heart, like Fred Sanford

Call me the dean, you can call me the champ

First school of hard knock, hold your kid for ransom

Keep playing with the fire, like go-go dancer

Keep a coat full of killers, like Charles Manson

[Hook]

These haters, up in the game [x2]