Gone hate

So many haters surround me/ B*tch n*ggas get sprayed when they round me/ I'll leave round after round n*gga right where your crown be/ Actin like they f*cking hard, when they softer than downy/ That N*gga-rican's gift of speakin is so astounding/ And I came a long way from housing and section 8/ Is that the reason why most of y'all b*tch n*ggas hate/ Maybe its fate/ I turn beef into cake/ Rob you right where you stay/ Wet ya chest up and let you lay/ Money in the bank/ And dont think a vest can stop my ammo cuz it f*cking cant/ Armor-piercing rounds leave ya whole body stank/ Wipe it off, clean it, sell it then thats mo money for me/ Never ever get it twisted, cuz I got another piece/ You got beef?, it sounds like mo bread for me/ Im in the 843 Flo-Town in the SC but I got that Georgia tat on my back it rides wit me/ To all my dirty south n*ggas and ladies , stand up/ Y'all soft **** haters, you need to go man up/ Or squad up/ if you find ya'self acting tough/ but my mossberg makes the toughest man back up/ So n*gga what?/ ~Esto~