Tell Me What They Mad For

Tell Me What They Mad For Lyrics Ludacris feat. Pusha T & Swizz Beatz

You know what I hate?
It’s when I person come up to me or I have somebody say it must be nice
You know my answer to that? Is you must be a hater
Tell me why you mad for!

Girl tell me what they mad for
Come around the hood still sitting there looking good
Tell me what they mad for
You should be o the radio sounding like a million million dollars
And tell me what they mad for huh
Show me what they mad for
Girl tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for huh

[Pusha T]
Hey Luda you know why they mad right
The truth shall set you free

If you selling all the records and you fucking all the bitches
And you sit on top of charts and you living out your wishes
With your chains is all smuttered and watch is all glittered
And your Ghosts and your Phatoms all coming home to visit
Or maybe cuz 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 on ever since you came from prison
Got you tweeting all stupid is you skating is you dissing
Found out your ghost leased and your Phantom just rented
Wont leave it in your name like Pac when he went missing
Macaveli lives on so im riding on you bitches
Hail Mary be the witness lord willing I was dealing
Stupid motherfucking five star tatted on his ceiling
Bulls eye be the motherfucking target for this killing
Ain’t y’all the motherfuckers with the millions?


Time to start putting grown ass men on time out
Go in the corner and cry somewhere man!
Old insecure ass rappers your heart pump Kool-Aid man
What you mad at me for?

Is it cuz I got houses on every coast
Or that I’m on that Forbes list making rich rappers look broke
While they blowing that smoking I’m making a couple million
Making a killing stunting on imposters
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 already drove
Any chick that you hit my nigga I’ve already hold
Say it with your chest like these diamonds in my charm
Name on my head phones label tatted on my arm
Air traffic control say Ludacris is insane
The nigga daughter’s birthday is tail number on his plane
Fuck with me but nobody fucking with me
Take a shot of my cognac more millions real gs chug it with me
If I’m happy there’s no reason you should be sad for
So will somebody kill somebody please


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