doe rae me hailies revenge
Hailie, what do you want to be when you grow up, baby?
I don't know, but I don't want to
Grow up to be like Ja Rule's little dirty-ass kids
Ha ha, yeah, c'mon
G-G-G-G-G-G-G Unit
Hailie, come here, baby! Bring Daddy his Oscar!
We're gonna shove it up Ja Rule's ass
I'm about to get rid of some hoes, it's simple
I'm quick to murder ink with lead
And I ain't talking 'bout a pencil
Look at what the fuck you done got into
I see you found your niche, you just a bitch with a menstrual
Claiming you a murderer, and you spelled it wrong
You put E before the D, ‘cause that's all you on
You on Pac's dick, you a replica guy
If he was still alive, you would never get by
All you do is cry, bitch, keep it real
Life is more than imitating niggas and eating pills
And what kind of motherfucker ruins three deals
That another nigga got you? They didn't see skills
And I ain't playin', you a brother getting cheated
And Ja Rule be prayin' on his cover, ‘cause he need it
And all you niggas hating, shut your mouths!
It's just that real niggas ain't buying that shit y'all put out
Doe, rae, me, but we don't sing, motherfuckers
So Murder Inc, do your thing, motherfuckers
You unleashed on a team
Who expects nothin' less than R&B coming from that regime
"Regime" is a little extreme
Neck and neck with soldiers, motherfuckin' Marines
Ja sold his soul to sing
Weave eye-witness team on the TV screen, chase the greed
Now that you've embraced the green
Don't fuck with the triple beams
You's a motherfuckin' actor, slash Pac impersonating rapper
Slash Billie Holiday – how it happen?
Artist and repertoire saw him in action
Pac assassination, Def Jam grabbed him
Told him, "Reenact him, you go platinum!"
They seen it for sure, I know that Afeni Shakur
Don't enjoy Jeffrey Atkins reenacting her boy
So I'm click-clackin' this toy, mash and destroy
Shady slash Aftermath and Detroit, motherfucker!
Doe rae me, fa-so-la-ti-da
Don't blame me ‘cause you washed up, lost your spot
Mama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
Don't hate me, I'm too hot and you're not
Shooting at me, with the only shot you got
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
You'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop
Now, we can get past the mean mugs and get to the slugs
To the grievance and the crying and the intimate hugs
We don't take you serious, nigga, you shook
You half of a half-way crook; get off X dick, go sing a hook!
Nigga, and you can't replace the late great one
And when you gone you only gon' be the late fake one
Nigga, please stick to the script
Before the guns stick to the clip
And Benzino, you ain't shit but a bitch!
Fuckin' old-ass, ignorant, innocent-lookin' senior citizen
Built up, slap you like Grimace, all sensitive
Wait a minute, hold on: is it me, or do he look like a banana with braids and clothes on?
A bitch-made man; now, how you gonna connect
With them short ass arms, like a Tyrannosaurus Rex
You niggas can scream, holler and curse
Go ahead and respond
And pull that pen and pad up outta your purse
Slim didn't send Proof to get at the wankstas
He told me to let loose and spit at the gangstas
What up, Gotti? And this little war you pushed on
Put your ear to the ground for stepping on bush stones
What's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real niggas?
Roll like a boss, in the streets they still feel us
It's real business, y'all ain't caught the concept
You talking nonsense to walking bomb threats
Contact was blown by Benzetta in The Source
Threaten at the boss, you gon' see me on your porch
Now Irv got the nerve to try to serve on us
But Detroit niggas early and ain't scurred to bust
Word to my nigga Bugz, punks like you get beat up
Stomped unconscious and smacked with the heater
This rap cookie monster gets jabbed in the tonsils
With dicks so much that he should be fixed with a vagina
Who's behind ya? Cadillac Pac or that transvestite?
That dress like a Lil Kim fox
You're just like a little windbox
Press tight on the trigger of this Glock
Swallow that little shit you got left to help you eat
You knock Pac's songs without love to help you sleep
You got shot in your video trying mock Pac
You Mockaveli; get your own identity!
Doe rae me, fa-so-la-ti-da
Don't blame me ‘cause you washed up, lost your spot
Mama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
Don't hate me, I'm too hot and you're not
Shooting at me, with the only shot you got
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
You'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop
Don't you never say my little girl's name in a song again
Fuckin' punk-pussy bitch! I'll fuck you up, boy! Never!
Don't you never in your motherfuckin' life…
I'll choke the shit out of you little motherfuckin' midget
Hailie'll whip your motherfuckin' ass
That's right, motherfuckers
Shady records, what you know about it?
Fuck Benzino! Fuck Ja Rule!
Nigga, this Obie Trice right here talkin' to you motherfuckers
Ja Rule punk ass, yeah, fuckin' Soul 4 Real ass
Nigga, that's Soul 4 Real
That the nigga from Soul 4 Real!
Candy Rain-ass nigga, he got a deal, now he rappin'
You don't know what's, faggot-ass motherfuckers
Get money to all my real niggas, man
Obie Trice, D-12, G Unit, 50 Cent, Hailie Jade
Daddy, is Ja Rule taller than me?
No, honey, you guys are the same size