[J-Zone] + (female)
(Hey daddy!) Hey beitch
(I wanna be your b*tch. How can I qualify?)
I mean, it takes a real special kind of lady
To be with a Boss Hog, y'knahmsayin? I mean
You just can't be any girl to be a Hogette
You gotta be that kind of girl you can take home
And show your grandmother, y'knahmsayin? I mean
You know what? I'm-I'ma tell you
I'mma tell you what kind of girl you need to be
Check it out, heh
I need a girl with extensions in her hair
Or she can be bald-headed, sh*t I don't care!
A crazy nag with a bad attitude
That's all I need to put me in a good mood
She beat her kids with a switch and joined the street gang
Start sh*t with other girls when they try to run game
Standing at the bus stop, waiting for the Q3
Setting metal detectors with her bootleg jewelry
Or a rich b*tch from Long Isle' that actin like Hilary Banks
High as the national debt, straight whylin
Bougie, yet she drinks 40's of brew
A Yale graduate, yet she snorted all of her room
Used to search for a regular girl like a ass
But you got nuttin to lose when yo' ho is low class
Faith beat up her pops for sport, Jan's a klepto
She can steal a 747 out an airport
My new broad is neurotic with a slight mustache
But somethin 'bout the crazy b*tch won't let me quit her
She went trick-or-treatin with her kids to rob the homeowners
God damn n*gga, maybe you should reconsider!
Maaan f*ck that, I got no love with the wife type
I never met one, so I stick to the trife type
Got fo' kids, low class, but I can spank her
And got a trackin device, strapped to her ankle
So she ain't in the club, flirtin with Pharrell
She's home by eight o'clock cause she don't wanna go to jail
Met a Adrian Balboa bookworm type
But on the low a coke sniffin snow blower had to let her go
A grimy Far Rockaway thugmatic b*tch
Suburban-ass soccer mom drug addict b*tch
Every girl I date seems to be a nutcase
And I'm the only dude that never been to jail the sl*t dates
Lisa, Angela, Pamela, Robin
I don't need 'em, them hoes got problems
But I can't stay away, but if they ever need a place to stay
Stay the f*ck from around my way, ya crazy b*tch!
[Hook: Boss Hog Barbarians]
Somethin about you - makes me wanna make you my wife
But b*tch you trife and baldheaded with no job
Callin all hoodrats and psychos
They always wanna fight hoes
Drunk, high, about to do a bid
You wanna be a singer and you got four kids
b*tch you crazy, I should quit'cha
Aww f*ck it, I'mma stay wit'cha
[Celph Titled]
Silky, filthy, her gold teeth like sunshine
That's why I had to dedicate at least one rhyme
To all them gangsta b*tches from the neighborhood
Cause I'm the one to f*ck you like no other brother would
Type to go to Burger King, splurge on some onion rings
Purple eyeliner, earrings the size of onion rings
These are things I like in my girls, I ain't playin
They the ones from junior high, skippin class, misbehavin
Gettin f*cked in the stairwell, pregnant at 14
Runnin drugs back and forth in projects at Fort Greene
Asked if she could use a gun - she said, "Which one?"
I said the M-249 she said, "Yeah that's that sh*t son~!"
Keep her pus*y clean but b*tch grimy as hell
If cops find out she sell she'll be confined to a cell
She don't write no love letters, she snuffin them thug heffers
DipSet and D-Block, she only listen to thug records
Perm in your hair or even a curly weave
Buck fifty scar across the face as cute as can be
I need a b*tch that's a rider that's the one for me
But she ain't gettin out of jail 'til I'm a hundred and three
And really most of y'all dudes is too soft for these broads
Offerin cards and candy, asian nails and massage
But I just pull out the garage in a hooptie, ready for action
For girls with tats on they breasts that read "Thug Passion"
[Hook]
[J-Zone]
Man f*ck that, this is dedicated
To all my flaky, psychotic, drama queen ex-b*tches
Doin time for stealin blank checks
Got enough kids to start a f*ckin Pop Warner team
Doin more drugs than the cast of Different Strokes
Jealous ex-boyfriend havin rap groupie tramp punk ho
Stop callin me, don't e-mail me, don't come to my shows
Kill that I love you talk cause love went out with the Reebok pump
I got nuttin for y'all but a case full of b*tch-B-Gon
And a can full of Ho Repellant, abra-cadabra b*tch DISSAPEAR!