Yo check it out.
 Today we're here wit basketball star Rasheed Wallace.
 (Yo what up kid?)
 From the... what  what  what team is that you play for again?
 (Sshh. The Bullets man.)
 Yea right  right.
 So tell me Rasheed you know what I'm sayin  this hip hop thang an everythang
 goin on  tell me  I mean  what  what's yo flavor?
 (Yo check it out kid  I only like real hip hop man  the real shit. You know
 what I'm sayin. Redman, Wu-Tang, you know what I'm sayin. I don't fool wit
 the Goodie Mob's, and I especially don't fool wit them E-40's.)

 Verse 1

 Nigga what the fuck they hit fo?
 Nigga let's shoot fins
 you got all the bread nigga
 put up yo Benz
 nah-nah, can't do that
 Why not?
 Ol skool trophy
 somethin I done worked too hard fo
 nigga quote me
 yo swole bank rolls done turned to lil ol anarxins
 get ready to pay the price ??? pee-wee no catchin
 Who got change fo this brand new hundred?
 Staight outta welfare
 when I break you niggas I'm a have enough money, to buy a bare fare
 spend about a half a hundred thousand
 boost up my coins
 preceed to spit mo supafly
 than Donald Goins
 this game is so damn hemrigin
 that I be delivin
 these niggas don't understand my shit
 but they surrendurin
 simmerin, rememberin things that, done jumped off
 lyrics spit on niggas than a, a bad cough
 messy hoes, got my name between they teeth
 juss because... I'm from the WEST not the EAST
 graduated from the dope game
 phat ass wallets
 What's that niggas name?
 Rasheed Wallace!!
 You gon' have to learn to respect yo elders mayne
 I'm twomp bait nigga ain't no need for you to record hate
 mind ya own, or ya own gon remind you
 Nigga!!
 The Click will biatch!


 Chorus *(Big Lurch & E-40)*

 Record Hatin bitches!
 Suave game and snitches!
 (Learn about it bitch!)
 We should cease you from existance.
 (That's right)
 Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (Mutha fucka!)
 Ya Record Hatin bitches
 (Trademark.)
 there's no way you could get wit this
 (Stick to basketball nigga!)
 we should cease you from existance
 niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (Biatch!)

 Verse 2

 Got another mutha fucka on my shit list
 I'm a cut off his dick list
 I mean my hit list
 my rest in piss list
 dude that be hangin around Nas
 you know, gay baby
 nigga said some negative shit about me up in a magazine called "
 after watchin "New York Undercover" while I was, takin a shit
 Kool Keith was on the front cover that's when I
 that's when I spotted him
 that nigga AZ tried to say that I don't deserve a platinum plaque
 nigga I was sellin tapes out the trunk of my car when you was runnin round
 drinkin Simalac
 all up in yo fake ass videos (ok)
 champagne an coffin full of skrill nigga know damn well yo punk ass ain't
 got had no mills
 I'm payin full nigga an I'll have yo head where ever you at
 I'm straight fool nigga seem like someone shoulda been an told ya that
 bring the yellow tape nigga
 jungle full of asphalt
 don't make no sense to talk that talk if a nigga ain't gon' walk that walk
 zip up yo lip befo' yo lip zip you up
 Biatch!
 Biatch!
 I gives a fuck! Biatch!

 It's major pain.
 Nigga don't know a damn thang about me.
 You mutha fuckas don't know nuttin bout no E-40 hoe!
 Monkey mouthed biatch!
 Biatch!

 *(Chorus)*

 Record Hatin bitches!
 Suave game and snitches!
 (Learn about it bitch!)
 We should cease you from existance.
 (That's right)
 Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (Shouldn't be livin.)
 Ya Record Hatin bitches!
 (Record Hatin bitches!)
 there's no way you could get wit this
 (Uh.)
 We should cease you from existance
 (V-Town bitch!)
 Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (E'ry time)

 Verse 3

 When I first started off niggas had me fucked
 mutha fuckas was blind
 in '89 that ol "Mr. Flamboyant" shit was
 way ahead of his time
 had everyone an they great grandmas off that
 Carlos Rossi wine
 was in a major label an business that uh
 didn't want us to shine
 it was me an my potna from Suave House Records
 Tony Draper
 E-40, an The Click
 8-Ball, an MG gettin that
 independent paper
 all about my ruh-uh-rap
 uh-should I shine
 beat a mutha fucka uh-duh-down
 e'ry time
 40 get yo marbles man
 get yo change
 take a limosuine everywhere you go and fly private planes
 that's what I was taught to do
 by my big homie thou
 you can always be a nigga, but a nigga ain't rich til he can't count his
 money no mo'
 over night sensation
 never me
 all you "Record Haters" got
 Ph.IV
 my niggas 3X Krazy laced me
 taught me how to say "fa sheezy"
 told me that them AZ mutha fuckas don't believe phat means greasy
 we can shoot it out
 or we can fight
 You an Rasheeda wanna squash the funk?
 Shoot me some peace bitch!

 *(Chorus)*

 Record Hatin bitches!
 (Record hatin bitches!)
 Suave game and snitches!
 (Suave game and snitches!)
 We should cease you from existance.
 (That's rich.)
 Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (Suck-els!)
 Ya Record Hatin bitches
 (Lil ol, biatch!)
 There's no way you could get wit this
 (That's right.)
 We should cease you from existance
 (Learn about it.)
 Niggas like that shouldn't be livin.
 (That's right