Tell me why you mad for Tell me why you mad I would rather shoot before I run Pressure on my shoulder weigh a ton You should try to do what we done Make a million dollars while you young I know to you it looks easy Where your 600 Benz, where your Rovers

There's a silence in a room and it is killing me Speak your mind So out of reach Won't you speak your mind? But you won't tell me why Go and lie in the bed you made Keep all the words for the ones who play 'Cause I'm getting tired of the guessing game

All I want from you is drug sex Run it up and never go back (Go back) Tell me why the fuck you mad though? (Mad though) I ain't that used to getting mad dough (Mad dough) I dropped forty pointers on your ass, ho (Ass, ho) Forty pointers on your ho-ass