Immaculate Perception

By 8Ball

On Premro

Released on March 3, 2012

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[Intro: 8Ball]

They love to hate

Any time, any place

They love to hate

Behind your back and in your face

They love to hate

Every day, all day

They love to hate

Behind your back and in your face


[Verse 1: 8Ball]

Leave one of you niggas stretched out in the middle of the street

Stressed out every day of the week

My only relief when I hear these beats

Smokin’ calms me down

Talk soft but the weed I blow loud

I was hard then, still hard now

Memphis, nigga, that's still my town

Big 4-5, not for show

If you see it, you probably finna die

Don’t run fast, but the bullets in the air

Sound like "shh, shh" when they whizzin' by

Put it in the light, brag it ain't so

My DNA does not contain ho

MJG, my brother for life

No speculation, that’s what I know

Timeless, it don’t die bitch

Long life, strong heart

Hot head, could’ve been dead

Space age, that’s what we are

Bigger than life, Superman

No cape on, with the blunt in my hand

Safety off, I might let one go

Safety off, I might let one go


[Chorus: 8Ball]

I wanna make them happy songs, but it’s not a accurate reflection

I make street poetry with my immaculate perception

Never go nowhere without 4-5, that’s there for my protection

I was rolling up and burning at the time of its conception

And I know that sounds kinda fucked up, y’all

But that’s how I feel, and that’s how I roll

And that’s all I live, and that’s all I know

And it’s what I give, and that’s how it goes


[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]

Twenty thousand eight balls of cocaine

That’s what it cost for the chain

Me and 8Ball in the ass club, they screamin’ out, "Make it rain!"

That’s all I know my dog, ball

I’m a boss like a GD

My life a movie, no TV, I’m fully focused

All my heads in, the breeze feel better in the driver's seat

Don’t preach to me about music

Sayin’, "Waka, step up your lyrics"

Mind your business, I’m eatin’

Big belly, that’s the get-money gut

Flockaveli got me a bulletproof truck

This new-groove clutch got me stuck

Blowin' out the backwoods

Waka Flocka Flame, the ’96 Suge

I do what I wanna, you do what you could

I said ghetto after ghetto, walkin’ block after block

From Craig County, Riverdale, motherfucker

I’m up all night like a trucker

I don’t trust shit, them cops is suckers

Brick Squad Monopoly, that’s the company

I don’t need no company so I'mma let my homies speak

I'mma do me and be myself

If you don’t like that go fuck yourself


[Chorus: 8Ball]

I wanna make them happy songs, but it’s not a accurate reflection

I make street poetry with my immaculate perception

Never go nowhere without 4-5, that’s there for my protection

I was rolling up and burning at the time of its conception

And I know that sounds kinda fucked up, y’all

But that’s how I feel, and that’s how I roll

And that’s all I live, and that’s all I know

And it’s what I give, and that’s how it goes


[Verse 3: Yelawolf]

You see this Jack bottle?

That could be the reason that I pulled the motherfucker right out, scared him

And introduced him to my homie Trailer Park

Bare-knuckled to your gold-grip polish

You see this bad model?

She might be the only bitch to ever get you into a situation, Because you hate to see me lookin’ like I do

And still get these number tens, ho

Oh, you a gangster, huh?

Well I never seen a G suckin’ dick

Cause I put it on my fuckin’ list

To fuck up shit in the rap game, and I’m doin’ it

Slumerican's bangin’, huh?

Besides me, you ain’t never gonna fuck with Rittz

And Shawty Fatt'll welcome back into the welcome mat

Young Struggle at the mailbox with the bricks

8Ball, Waka Flocka walking through the sticks

Alabama got a lot of choppers with the clips

And because I know a little bit about this

Yelawolf has got a lot of people talkin’ shit

But it’s everything cause you don’t know about the history

That Michael Wayne has been through, homie

I could've flown to the moon on a bird's back

Before I could jump out and act like a phony

So it really don’t matter to me

What you think about the clothes I put on

It’s my originality

That's got ‘em all acting like clones

Catfish Billy and I'm on some new shit

Don't hate bitch, I can make you rich

Suck dick while I sip Nestle Quik

With my muddy shoes all over you momma's new whip

Yup, Yeller


[Outro: 8Ball]

They love to hate

Any time, any place

They love to hate

Behind your back and in your face

They love to hate