Brotha Lynch Hung, C-Bo, Kam - Gangsta (Fuck A Ho) lyrics

Y'all ready for the all-out callin' out?
Bitch want a nigga that's ballin' out
Buddy ain't right, they fallin' out
In the doghouse all night callin' out
Spend money like stylin' out
Every night, Sunset, whylin' out
All out of place, all in my face
Next thing you know
I would give her the ways
Hit the pillow in her face
All up in your place
Dick all up in your face
I just exercise game on a bitch (And what?)
Hang out the window, chain slang on a bitch
(And what?)
Cock game then aim on a bitch (And what?)
Tryna get off into the brain on a bitch
(And what?)
Bet that, I make change on a bitch
Flip 4-point-6 Range on a bitch
Same nigga
Same trick, same wrist, nigga, this frostbit
At the bar
All six bottles of Cris'
Hookers look like models and shit
Nigga, 'cause we

Gangsta, nigga, we like, fuck a hoe
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
Never thinking of 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
Never thinking of 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fuck a hoe
Never thinking of 'em though

I used to ball like my cock
Is Will and Dog and Jerome
Used to hang out the window with the
9 chrome when it was on
Used to sing out the window
When I was 14-years-old
It was one o'clock in the morning
In her window, hard as a stone
Gotta get it on
Hit dome
Split dome, spit chromes in they crevices
Gotta let it rip; better hope that clip
Don't split you like a lettuce
Got a fetish for meat
Retreat, penetration generatin' the heat
Beat, 'til it's bloody meat, got it
All on my Dickies and seats
Never trusted a ho
Just busted a ho in the grill
I'm the type of a nigga that'll get real
Shoot them slugs in your bill
Gotta get that mil
Down to pop that pill too
Gotta fuck you 'til I kill you
Light grip
Don't even trip, eat 'em up like soul food
This is four, fool, and the 9 connected
Double jeopardy if you step to me
Get a hysterectomy for disrespecting me
Expect to leak your life away
You should cut 'em up in
Little pieces for the McRib
Hook the meat like fish fillet
Nigga, 'cause we

Gangsta, we like, fuck a hoe
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a ho
Never thinking of 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
Never thinking of 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fucc a hoe
Tuck 'em, don't love 'em though
Gangsta, we like, fuck a hoe
Never thinking of 'em though

I'm a rhyme fanatic
Titanic grind, used to minor static
Tryna have it
Automatic Mac, black vagina addict
Silly rabbit
Trix is for kids, you must be crazy
'Cause screwin' got niggas doin' bids
And pushin' up daisies
It never ceases to amaze me what
Niggas do for the cot
Like what G's do for the block and
These fiends do for the rock
Tick tock
It don't stop
From the back, bottom or on top
We got 'em hot—if we can't make it crack
Then it won't pop