(Ja Rule) 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
(Verse One) 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
(Chorus: Ja Rule) 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
(Verse Two) 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
(Chorus)
(Verse Three) 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