Tell Me What They Mad For lyrics

[Chorus]
Come around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good
Tell me what they mad for
You should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars
Tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for
Girl tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for

[Verse 1: 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*cking every rapper in the business
n*ggas saying you was better when the drugs was in your system
Now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison
Got you tweeting 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 missing
Makaveli lives on so I’m riding on you b*tches
Hail Mary be the witness, Lord Willin' I was dealing
Stupid motherf*cking five star, tatted on his ceiling
Bullseye, be the motherf*cking target for this killing
Ain't y'all the motherf*ckers with the millions?
[Chorus]
Come around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good
Tell me what they mad for
You should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars
Tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for
Girl tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for

[Verse 2: Ludacris]
Is it cause I got houses on every coast
Or that I'm on that Forbes list making rich rappers look broke
While they blowing that smoke I'm blowing a couple millions
Making a killing stunting on imposters
Only rapper in the game with a grammy and a Oscar
Seven figure movie deals, eight figure bank runs
And I'm still feeding the same hood that I came from
Any car that you got I've already drove
Any chick that you hit, my n*gga, I've already hoed
Say it with your chest, like these diamonds in my charm
Name on my headphones, label tatted on my arm
Air traffic control say Ludacris is insane
That n*gga daugher's birthday is the tail number on his plane
f*ck with me, but nobody f*cking with me
Taking a shot of my Cognac
More millions, real G's chugging with me
If I'm happy there's no reason you should be sad for
So if somebody, can somebody please
[Chorus]
Come around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good
Tell me what they mad for
You should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars
Tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for
Girl tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for