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Nobody Likes Me
Mobb Deep


Nobody Likes Me Lyrics

Uh Hu
Uh Hu
Lines pop like bottles of Mo Bonin ya ho
Leave 'em open like a 20 a blow
Fiening to cop more
Rhymes rusty like nails
Spit 'em catch lock jaw
Cook shit spit it up sit it on the floor
To prevent lop side I never slam the door
To never get shitted on don't put my faith in whores
Never let my information leak thru my forewall
They say I'm all to sick cause I screen my calls
No matter if I'm in the right, I'm a probable cause
Keep my stash ??? while your guns get tossed
Niggas live by the law then they die by the law
Then I live by the gat and I'm a die by that
Dun I used to be the tunnel now we regular ?spress?
Son it's strictly dom bitches never catch me with rats
QB where I took my first H we rep
Never leave the projects and ya'll know the rest

Nobody likes me everybody hates me so I got to pack my gun
We carry big ones small ones sneak 'em into clubs dun if you ever catch
me run
Nobody likes me everybody hates me so I got to pack my gun
We carry big ones small ones sneak 'em into clubs dun if you ever catch
me run

A yo you ran, started feeling numb in your hand
Felt something dripping looked down seen your arm leaking
You get excited and start to panic
Lucky for you, ya had your track shoes on and blew it
My arch louder than a Doberman bark
Sober you up, challenge your heart, see where its at
I caught this on dude tried to shank me
Stupid f*ck frankly I pulled out and left his ass soggy
Keep rhyming on the Ragu can't seem to shake it
Ruger on the left side of my hips for maitnence
I fix all your problems, handle it bitch
Use a maytag nigga and ya won't do shit
After you shot you got all emotional with mommy
Laying in emergency throw the ?dease? on me
Squeeller I thought you was a drug dealer thug killer
but at the end you kept it realer

That's why..

A yo I leave a last impression when my shit gets scared
Tying to hang with the elite but a nigga got bought
When it's time to mello out stare straight into stars
Then I sabotage your brain with these last 8-balls
With your ice grill making me laugh on your behalf
Have a nigga skin graph I'm talking out of the ass
Play you like the ab getting bent off, credit from poppy
Nock niggas down when I get like that
So start me

I'm putting holes like the pores ??? with bacardi
My gun dun step aside the place and make heads spin
Are shit, it go to mobb nigga keep your distance
Fake f*cks keep coming out using infamous
I'll say it for the last motherf*cking time bitches
Come with your own shit or get stomped and shot
By Queens bridge at the next industry convention

That's why...
(chorus repeat till end)

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Songwriter(s): Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Albert Johnson

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