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ludacris - mad fo كلمات الأغنية

[intro: swizz beatz]
you know one thing i hate?
it’s when a person come up to me or i hear somebody say, “it must be nice”
you know my answer that is, “you must be a hater”
tell me why you mad fo’ (remo the hitmaker)
hey, listen here, luda, we gotta keep it real, boy
we gon’ do it like this, baby
listen here, you know what i’m saying? luda

[chorus: swizz beatz & ludacris]
tell me what they mad fo’, come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
yeah, time to start putting grown–ss men on time out
tell me what they mad fo’
huh? tell me what they mad fo’
go to the corner and cry somewhere, man
tell me what they mad fo’
old insecure -ss, n-gga, yo heart pump kool-aid, man
tell me what they mad fo’
what you mad at me for? luda

[verse 1: ludacris]
is it ’cause i got houses on every coast?
or that i’m on that forbes list makin’ rich rappers look broke?
while they’re blowin’ that smoke, i’m blowin’ a couple million, makin’ a k!llin’ stuntin’ on impostors
only rapper in the game with a grammy and an oscar (and the winner is…)
7-figure movie deals, 8 figure bank runs
and i’m still feedin’ the same hood that i came from (yeah!)
any car that you got, i’ve already drove
any chick that you hit, my n-gga, i’ve already hoed (i did, ow!)
say it with your chest like these diamonds in my charm
name on my headphones, label tatted on my arm (oh!)
air traffic control say, “ludacris is insane”
that n-ggas daughter’s birthday’s the tail number on his plane (tell ’em, real talk)
f-ck with me but n0body’s f-ckin’ with me
takin’ a shot of my cognac, more millions, real g’s chug it with me
if i’m happy, there’s no reason you should be sad for (why?)
so will somebody, can somebody please

[chorus: swizz beatz & meek mill]
tell me what they mad fo’, ah, come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good, skrrt
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio, yeah
sounding like you made a million dollars
tell me what they mad fo’, ha
tell me what they mad fo’
is you n-ggas hatin’ ’cause you mad
or is you mad ’cause you hatin’?
tell me what they mad fo’
choose one, hater
tell me what they mad fo’

[verse 2: meek mill]
now if these n-ggas hatin’ on me, i’ma k!ll ’em dead
if i wasn’t rappin’ i’d be probably be in the feds
in the cell, gettin’ mail, with a million dollar bail
but instead of countin’ blues, i’ma take this ysl
and this gucci, and this louis, prada ’cause i’m hotter
i used to ball in philly, with that nina iguodala
i beefs up in my beamer, check aboard my collar (skrrt)
and when i check my bank account, i’m checkin’ for them commas
i’m like all these n-ggas haters, all these b-tches f-ckin’
at 24 i went and bought a ghost like it was nothin’
at 25 i bought that aston martin, now we stuntin’
and you n-gga still talkin’ all this money, sh-t, you bluffin’
you bluffin’, you bluffin’, i really think you bluffin’
100,000 dollars, magnum bottles just crush ’em
now tell me why you hatin’? you hatin’ ’cause you mad?
or is you mad because you hatin’? boy, you sad

[chorus: swizz beatz & chris brown]
tell me what they mad fo’, come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
tell me what they mad fo’
huh, tell me what they mad fo’
tell me what they mad fo’
tell me what they mad fo’
haha, look, yeah, okay

[verse 3: chris brown]
i see why you mad, i’m countin’ all this money
and i’m poppin’ all these tags, hoppin’ to it, f-ckin’ bunnies
real n-gga, one hundred, you tryna do it, i done it
i spit sick on this rap sh-t, make ’em sick to they stomach
i’m clean, man, you hate, mad ’cause i make it keep it real with a real n-gga
i got racks on racks and a black maybach, call it black on black ’cause i k!ll n-ggas
in the club, all girls, no n-ggas, don’t talk to me ’cause i ain’t really tryna hear n-ggas
in the coupe, it’s the truth and the roof go poof, vamoose, i can make it disappear, n-gga
see this the type of sh-t that i be sayin’
just because i’m ballin’, that don’t mean a n-gga playin’
yup, haters can blow me like a fan
flyer than a b-tch, i don’t think i’ma ever land
but in the meantime, baby, what’s your plan?
you can call me daddy but i can’t be your man
fiendin’ like the addicts, when i pull it out, they panic
bi-bi-b-tch, i do damage, you gon’ need an ambulance

[chorus: swizz beatz]
tell me what they mad fo’, come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
tell me what they mad fo’
huh, tell me what they mad fo’
showtime
tell me what they mad fo’
put one hand in the air if you know somebody
that’s mad at you right now for no reason
tell me what they mad fo’
can you hear me now? ayy

[verse 4: swizz beatz]
ayy, ridin’ around in my jeep, bumpin’ that 2pac (ayy, ayy)
i’m walkin’ around in my hood, c-cked back two glocks (bam)
98 in my status, i came back, i’m the baddest
christian’s on my feet, i told you, i’m the baddest (d-mn, ayy)
all the way in paris, don’t talk, you’ll get embarr-ssed (yeah)
my watch is f-ckin’ up, yeah, you get embarr-ssed (ayy)
500 hunnid on them racks, pulled out them stacks (get ’em, gs)
n-ggas talkin’ crazy, drop top maybachs (ow!)
my life is just ludicrous, sucker, you just new to this
430’s pullin’ up, goddd-mn we do this sh-t
chickens and the waffles, chillin’ in the villa
bumpin’ ludaversal, gettin’ that scrilla

[chorus: swizz beatz & pusha t]
tell me what they mad fo’, huh, come around the hood, ayy
see us sitting there looking good
ladies and gentleman
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
ha, tell me what they mad fo’
yuugh
tell me what they mad fo’
woo
tell me what they mad fo’
hey luda, you know why these haters mad right?
tell me what they mad fo’
the truth shall set you free

[verse 5: pusha t]
if you sellin’ all the records and you f-ckin’ all the b-tches
and you sit a top of the charts and you livin’ out your wishes
with your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered
and your ghost and your phantoms all comin’ home to visit
or maybe ’cause your b-tches was never really your b-tches
with your baby mama f-ckin’ every rapper in the business
n-ggas sayin’ you was better when the drugs was in your system
now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison
got you tweetin’ all stupid, is you skatin’, is you dissin’?
found out your ghost leased and your phantom just rented
won’t need it in your name like pac when he went missin’
makaveli lives on so i’m ridin’ on you b-tches
hail mary be the witness, lord willin’, i was dealin’
stupid motherf-ckin’ five star, tatted on his ceilin’
bulls eye, be the motherf-ckin’ target for this k!llin’
ain’t y’all the motherf-ckers with the millions?

[chorus: swizz beatz]
tell me what they mad fo’, come around the hood
see us sitting there looking good
tell me what they mad fo’ ’cause you be on the radio
sounding like you made a million dollars
tell me what they mad fo’
huh, tell me what they mad fo’
tell me what they mad fo’
tell me what they mad fo’

- ludacris

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