Paroles Why u mad Redman

Why u mad

Hey, Big Seth, these niggas mad, nigga
Grind time, nigga
Oh, why you mad son?
These niggas and chicks be walkin' around all night and shit
Why you mad nigga?
Ayo, you mad nigga (Why you mad motherfucker?)
Let's go, aye

I wake up, wash the balls, and it's grind time
While I'm here, I take it back like your hairline
I came up from hidin' weed in my bantams
Now I'm electric, the block know I shakakon
High school chicks said, Red to never make it
Now they old ass in my Gram, gettin' naked
Fuck you, I'm trying to Maximilian
Cash me, whipping a ride, I'm Uncle Willie's son (Let it go)
Broke niggas stay yappin' like they get the bag
Plottin' on your downfall with they snitchin' ass
If his boys get him gas, then he gets mad
Just know I keep the sticks like white boy Rick dad
Boy, I love provin' haters wrong (Yeah)
Livin' my best life, I learned from little Duval (Waddup?)
My money three feet tall, but I got respect
And you rich, and I'm not impressed
Eat a Duval

Ayo, put your hands up in the sky (C'mon)
A lot of people mad, and don't ask me why (C'mon)
You say that you a boss, but your nose in mine
Why you looking all mad? 'Cause you're dyin' tryin'
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, bro?)
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, fucker?)

I'm Mr. Cream, and I'm a Brick City bad boy
Tongue out, middle finger to the tabloids
I can give it to these niggas like they asked for it
Then pull up like, fuck, boy, what you mad for? (Why you mad, nigga?)
They poked a bear, and I'm woke now
With my three, five, seven out of Oak Town
I can turn your lobby city to a ghost town (Let's go)
Set up shop, then Gilla shut the coast down (Coast down)
Ha, I'm something special, keep an eye on me
Plus, I got a pack of mammals that'll ride for me
And honestly, I hear him talkin', it don't bother me (Nah)
I modestly turn this bitch into a robbery (Let's go, Cream)
It's Gilla House until my veins pop
And where they test, they get left in the same spot
Mr. Cream, get mad if you wanna
I promise ain't no future if you're fuckin' up my commas

Ayo, put your hands up in the sky (C'mon)
A lot of people mad, and don't ask me why (C'mon)
You say that you a boss, but your nose in mine
Why you looking all mad? 'Cause you're dyin' tryin'
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, bro?)
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, fucker?)

My nigga, get off your ass and get on your grind
And stop cryin' about the same shit all the time (Yeah)
You whinin', complainin' ass niggas be the lamest (Yeah)
Your hugs and handshakes as fake as your chain is (Hater)
It's written all over your face
A body shot will have you shittin' all over the place
Niggas turn super ugly when they see my squad
They bitch ass get mad, wanna key my car (It's gilla)
We get it popping like two choppers
Shoot like Tupac when he heard Who Shot Ya (Feel me)
Step in the hood, better check in with us
I'm the plug for the bud and the Mexican mud
Now you all mad
Mr. Mean mug, so gangsta
Ay bro, check out my mixtape
No thank you (Fuck outta here)
I laugh at y'all little amateurs
Stay with your day job, you motherfuckin' janitor
Fix your face

Ayo, put your hands up in the sky (C'mon)
A lot of people mad, and don't ask me why (C'mon)
You say that you a boss, but your nose in mine
Why you looking all mad? 'Cause you're dyin' tryin'
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, bro?)
Are you mad, nigga? (Why you mad, fucker?)
Let's go

75 degrees on the East Coast
85 degrees on the West Coast
95 degrees in Miami
As we take y'all on a ride in the W2 album
But y'all know what it's time for
Let's get to the story of Soopaman Lover