[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
workin
hustlers
bitches
clear
living
through
holla
curves
words
happy
seperate
fuckin
gettin
frustrated
forty
invest
finish
every
myself
hopes
breasts
november
diggin
amongst
dealers
atlanta
flustered
talkin
housewife
three
became
about
harder
right
bitch
charge
copes
makin
broke
woman
always
could
since
understood
chorus
alwasy
speak
clubs
investor
cause
college
gentlemen
major
introduction
hooked
paper
checks
brokerage
kinda
trusted
sundown
louder
might
verse
money
month
muscle
nails
niggaz
september
interrupted
nothin
repeat
turned
pimpin
these
probably
worse
projects
studio
eventually
though
really
remember
rules
semester
heathrow
serve
somethin
hustle
actions
struggle
thieves
apartment
things
thought
tryin
wanna
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