Bitchez Wit Dikz (feat. Miz Marvel & Lil' Dap) - Jeru the Damaja

Too many bitches Still, there ain't enough bitches I handle my business Can't handle your bitches? On my mama, I'm on On my mama, I'm on On my mama, I'm on Bitch nigga say what? Remind me of my slut Don't make me drop my nut And I'm on up All raw, uncut Broad in pocket, don't touch my bucks Business, get some, she on the line, like five, and one Pop things like five, dozen, huh? Said she ready to go Hold up, I got a show You boys like hoes, niggas like bitches MOB wonder why I ain't with ya? I ain't got time, handle my business All play not work, that's a low key scrimmage Girl named Lindsey, girl named Molly They both like me, we all like money The end of my senses I ain't cuffin no bitches Like I've been to San Quentin I'm on my fitness Got all kind of bitches Work 'em out like a gymnast You niggas like bitches All in my dentures Remind me of my dentist Man I got bitches Too many bitches Still it ain't enough bitches I handle my business Can't handle your bitches? Keep 'em out my business Man I got bitches Give me a pill I might pop one Give me a collar, might pop one And I trust no bitch, they might got something I fuck you with condom, bitch that ain't my son Yeah - they got the homie for a hot one In these dank damn I'm tryna flock one Give me this, give me that, fuck no, you a rat I ain't no trick, suck on this dick, and Fuck on my clique, like that, yeah straight up Them basketball wives just tryna have you niggas pay up Ho, slut, ratchet – I'm going HAM 'till they put me in the casket And I'm packing, pimping and macking Pull it out and get cracking Look - I got rich bitches and them bitches got bitches And I'm giving your mama my digits Bitch got bitches Bitch, bitches got bitches See, I'm at the function Front row, got it jumping, show trap and I'm funking Homie, you a woman, probably really want a husband Bet you feel it in your stomach, hoes get nothing But some dick and instructions, I don't need no interruptions So we get scrumptious, man, always into something Don't forget the motherfucker, that's my introduction I'm out here hustling, you off the lean, I'm struggling Cut it with percussion, start the whip with a button No keys, just touching, microwave oven Leave the cooking for the bitches Unless I'm cooking up a pigeon

One day, one day, one day... One day about six 'o clock I'm woke up By the sound of my buzzer and a car or a truck Screechin' off, so I jump up, scratch my nuts But when I'm like "Who's that?" nobody speaks up So I go to the door, there's a note It says we have Hip-Hop hostage with guns to his throat Do the right thing and we might let him go But if you call the police, that's all she wrote You know what the motive is, it's all about dough And in case ya think we bullshittin' here's the photo I couldn't recognize the clowns 'cause they was all hooded down But I peeped Foxy Brown sippin' Cristal in the background With fake alligator boots on And smack dab in the middle was hip-hop with a Versace suit on I immediately called Primo, I said Hip-Hop is in trouble Meet me at my rest on the double Don't even jump in the shower Matta'fact scratch my rest meet me at D&D in an half an hour And bring all ya shit wit' you 'Cause you know what we got to do yo Afu! (Whassup?) lets jet-son like Elroy If I recall correctly I last saw hip-hop down at Bad Boy We'll see if Puff knows whassup Cuz he's the one gettin' him drunk and fuckin' his mind up We go to the office, he's nowhere to be found So we snatch up Jay Black and beat his bitch ass down Now where's Hip-Hop? A'ight, a'ight He confessed Suge came and took him from Puff last night He said he'd give him up if a real nigga came to retrieve 'em So we went to L.A. later that evenin' When we got there, everything was a'ight And we brought Hip-Hop back home that night One day