All My b*tches Are Gone lyrics

by

Spice 1


[Verse 1: Too $hort]
I used to have a lot of b*tches
Straight down for me
Doin' anything I said, even ho on the street
But I'm a dog and I dog my broads
Guerrilla pimpin', drivin' four door cars
Ain't got no kids but them b*tches love daddy
They had to share me or them b*tches couldn't have me
Cause I'm a Mack with a capital M
Call me $hort Dog baby, put the P in the Pimp
I keep my foot in your ass and wouldn't give a f*ck
Get out her pocket, b*tch you gettin' beat up
You see me hangin' with them n*ggas like jock
And every single five mile, b*tches gettin' popped
Well now I got a rep and they say I'm wrong
I beat my broad ass and she moved back home
Came in one night, I was buzzin'
b*tch tried to front me for f*ckin' her cousin
She started yellin', man, the b*tch got raw
I took one step back and went straight to her jaw
I gives a f*ck that the b*tch left
Cause all she ever got was some good di*k
And it really ain't sh*t to find another b*tch
Cause I'm a cool motherf*cker and I'm hella rich
(Yeah) Ant Banks in the house and you know he knows
Grab the mic n*gga, f*ck these hoes
[Verse 2: Ant Banks]
Yeah, I'm thinkin' back 'fore a n*gga just came up
Playin' games with the b*tches
Thought a n*gga might change but
I was tight thinkin' everything's all right
Doin' the same sh*t to a different b*tch every night
Just di*kin'em down like a gigolo
So you gotta peep game from a n*gga though
I'm too young to get sprung so don't trip, tell'em
(Ain't no love, b*tch)
So let's speak about a freak named Connie
f*cked the b*tch tough, backstage at the Omni
I can't forget Constance, the b*tch is so dumb
Quick to lick my nuts, suck my di*k, and just hum
And these are just some hoes
That a n*gga like tossed up, kinda crossed up
Turned out and lost but I ain't trippin'
They all got tramped
Used and abused till they all just vamped
And left a n*gga stuck with no kind of get back
Now I even get shook by the hoodrats
Cause they know what the f*ck they gon' get
Took for they cash and a mouth full of di*k, huh
And I hate I gotta be that way
Goin' vicious on these b*tches
Just made'em all leave today
But I know it won't last long
They sayin' f*ck Ant Banks
Now all my b*tches is gone
[Verse 3: Too $hort]
All my b*tches are gone, them b*tches bounced
I had a gang of'em, now they can't be found
They ain't f*ckin' with $hort Dog
Cause I'm from Oakland
You f*ck with us b*tch, somethin' gettin' broken
Your leg, arm, jaw, nose, pick a part
Oakland motherf*ckers'll break your heart
Until you recognize game in your face
You's a punk ass b*tch, ain't never been no place
I can't hold back, now's the time
To leave your stank fake broke ass b*tches behind
And move on like a player
I'm knockin' ghetto hoes and even squares
Secretaries, nurses, and police women
I'm flyin' first class, n*gga, f*ckin' flight attendents
$hort Dog ain't nothin' but a dog, beeyatch
(Ain't nothin' new n*gga, come again)
All my b*tches are gone, them b*tches cut
But I really don't give a f*ck
I always knew I didn't need that ho
I got the game from the motherf*ckin' E-S-O
And you can tell when I hit the place
All them star-struck b*tches jump in my face
And get shot to the curb like I'm the mob
Unless they givin' n*ggas blowjobs
[Verse 4: Ant Banks]
Yeah, and when a b*tch wanna flirt
I put in work, treat'em all like dirt
And watch them get they feelin's hurt
Cause I'm a mack, ho, listen to this rap, ho
And you will know not to f*ck around
You'll get slapped, ho
For tryin' to f*ck up the Ant Banks program
Steady saltin' with your stanky ass toe jams
You're mad cause I wouldn't spend no time
I'm with the homies, makin' cash
Pullin' b*tches and writin' rhymes
I'm just doin' what I got to do
I'm not f*ckin' with you
Because your funky ass c*ck is through
So now I gotta get some new hoes
Some old school b*tches
That's still ridin' trues and vogues
I want a freak with the gangsta look
That Ant Banks can hook
And the b*tch better know how to cook
Cause I'm a n*gga that'll eat some sh*t up
Macaroni, steak, collard greens, or whatever the f*ck
Yeah $hort, you know how we do'em
Treat b*tches like red lights and run right through'em
I got my mack on strong and my di*k on long
So f*ck it, all my b*tches can stay gone

[Outro: Too $hort & Ant Banks]
Mine too
You know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, beeyatch
$hort Dog in the motherf*ckin' house
Nah n*gga, you in this motherf*cker
Bringin' this sh*t for nine-tre and nine-four
You know what I'm sayin'?
Get in where you fit in, hoes
Before you need a check up from the neck up
Peace out
f*ck these b*tches, man
f*ck these b*tches, $hort
Let's get out of here, man
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