The Manual

Yeah, yeah, yeah
You talk too much shit
You know niggaz always talkin bout bitches ain't shit
Money over bitches
But give all our money to the bitches any fuckin way
(I love my bitch) So I'ma send some love out
to the bitches, holla
Shit, here's somethin to remember
When we met that day in September
But, you've been gone since November
Had to finish out yo' last college semester
Her major - brokerage investor
She probably go broke tryin to invest her
time and money in somethin that she call love
Cause, she love fuckin with thug niggaz
That alwasy get high and had to be drug dealers
Eventually, she hooked up with some hood bitches
The hood bitches turned her on to strippin
Now the, gettin is good and it's well understood
That money on the wood can make things get harder
Be glad I'm not a pimp, if I was I'd charge ya
But for all that you go through, just thought I'd let you know
Hoes need love too, I'm fuckin witchu
Niggaz need to read the man-u-al
To seperate your housewife from a hoe
Cause there's no rules to this shit here
Am I makin myself clear?
What she don't know won't hurt her y'all
So keep big pimpin on the low
Cause there's no rules to what I do
And I know, hoes need love too
You know what they say right? Bitches ain't shit
And all men are dogs cause we just wanna fuck
Sundown to sun up, one up on a hoe
I might go down on the low, that's just me though
From L-A-X to Heathrow, I'm one of them niggaz
that really doesn't need no, introduction
When I met her she was "Girl, Interrupted"
Grew up became a woman not to be trusted
Frustrated and flustered, living amongst
these thieves hoes and hustlers, I'm diggin what's next
She had a studio apartment in the projects
With her and her girl from D.C. used to bus checks
And hold the coke, her niggaz ain't sold yet
In hopes the copes don't know about all this
Shiiiiit, for all that you go through
Just wanna let you know, hoes need love too
Fake nails, fake breasts, fake eyes too
It's oh-four, and that's kinda what we used to
But you don't holla back like you used to, but I ain't mad at cha
I'm happy for a bitch, even if I can't have her
I remember when you was down in Atlanta
Workin gentlemen's clubs and you didn't even know what a gentlemen was
Forty to love and I wanna serve
That body like Serena's with less curves
But actions speak louder than words, and you gettin your money
Mami every month, 15th and 1st
Shit could be worse, you could be in the struggle
Or born with no ass and have nothin to hustle
Go on flex your muscle, cause that ain't the case is it?
Go on get your paper keep flossin on these bitches
Cause for all that you go through
Just thought I'd let you know, hoes need love too, I'm fuckin witchu