Doe Rae Me (Hailie's Revenge)

(Get on your knees, nigga, get on your knees and pray)

Em, you claim you mother's a crackhead and Kim is a known slut
So what's Hailie gon' be when she grows up?

Aha, yeah, come on (the evil genius)
G-G-G-G-G-Unit
Hailie (what?)
Come here, baby, bring daddy his Oscar (okay)
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 (bitch), you a replica, guy
If he was still alive, you would never get by (for real)
All you do is cry, bitch, keep it real
Life is more than imitating niggas and eating pills (ha)
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 (get on your knees and pray)
And all you niggas hating, shut your mouths (haha)
It's just the 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 eyewitness 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 (bitch)
You're talking nonsense to walking bomb threats
Contacts 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
When I press tight on the trigger of this Glock
Just 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 Mock-aveli, get your own identity

Doe rae me, fa-so-la-ti-da (don't you never say)
Don't blame me 'cause you washed up, lost your spot (my little girl's name in a song again)
Mama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa (Fuckin' punk, pussy bitch)
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac (I'll fuck you up, boy)
Don't hate me, I'm too hot and you're not (never)
Shooting at me, with the only shot you got (don't you never in your motherfuckin' life)
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac (I'll choke the shit out of you)
You'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop (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