Punk b*tch lyrics

Write a little save-a-ho speech all these fake-ass hoes...
Fake punk-ass b*tches...
Do you know what I mean, Vern?
f*ckin'em up like that, man...
$hort Dog's in the house, b*tch!

She's a punk-ass b*tch, ho, tramp and a sl*t
Took her to the motel just to f*ck
Last night she licked all on my balls
pus*y got wet like Niagara-falls
Dropped my drawls and b*tch said: "sh*t!"
Skinny mothaf*cka with a fat-ass di*k
It's like a T-P-treatment, thangs so foul
From the tip of my head to the crack of my ass
She got busy so I called to the crew
You b*tches know what to do
Hoes try to front like they ain't no tramps
Try to get that pus*y and she say you can't
Me and my partners we got that game
Check a square-ass b*tch and make her throw that thang
You wine and dine that nasty freak
Dropped her off and got a kiss on cheek
You never even know how she ran in the house
Jumped on the phone and started to burnin' me out
She kept beepin' so I made the call
b*tch on the phone jackin' off
Sounded like she was havin' fun
Playin' with her pearl tongue
I said: "b*tch, I'm on my way!"
I givit to you, homeboy, play by play
She had on polkadots with miniskirt
Jumped in the car straight went to work
I must to bust two nuts back to back
Never seen a b*tch work head like that
She had me jumpin' out of my seat
Workin' her jaws to the beat
She was a good di*ksucker, I can't lie
Sucked so good I thought I'd die
b*tch blew me up and blew me down
All the way back to the Oakland-town
Baby started to singin': "I love you!"
Tellin' me things she wanted to do
If I needed some money come to her
Everythin' I want is everythin' I'm worth
And you know what I said? I told the b*tch
I said: "b*tch, I'm rich!"
f*ck these hoes, man...
I ain't trippin'...I'm like hell...
Long-hair suckers...

I know you're fine, b*tch
But you got no cash you need to get a job
But your lazy-ass try to juice me up
I ain't no punk
I put you in the rap with some serious funk
I wouldn't buy you a car, no diamonds and sh*t
All the time talkin' about your fake-ass gifts
George bought you a ring, John bought you a chain
b*tch, I'm buyin' you an ounce of this game
You better take it and shut the f*ck up
Stop runnin' your mouth like a sucka
Cause you's a punk b*tch
It shows a mile away
Everythin' you say and everythin' you do
Makes you a punk b*tch, no good, no doubt
All I gotta do is stick a di*k in your mouth
Wanna give up the pus*y, b*tch, I pass
You're too slim, I like your mama's ass
Pops came home, came up to show
Family in the backroom, I'm f*ckin'em both
Now I'm the stepdaddy and the son in law
You call me Too $hort they call me too raw
I creep by one room in to the next
Nothin' goin' on but some serious sex
Some of these hoes might think I'm played
Bald-head b*tch need some dookie braids
Cause that nappy-hair don't even hit
What's cookin' in the kitchen
On the back of your neck
Like you burned the rice and wanna front on me
You could never f*ck with $hort, baby
I'm from the O-A-K-L-A-N-D
I slap you in the face with reality
These punk-ass hoes out there is sick
Happy walkin' around with a trippy di*k
So beautiful fine young thang
To get that c*ck was just like a dream
But now three days later ask Kool Moe
You feel burnin' sensation down below
You're a true blue victim of a punk-ass b*tch
Thought she was a square and she gave you the sh*t
So for all you hoes that live like this
All the homies in the house say: "punk-ass b*tch!"