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treat 'em like hoez - mr. doctor lyrics

(feat. brotha lynch hung)

[mr. doctor]
biatch, i see you standin in the window, fiendin
one o’clock at night a n-gg- high and baby fiendin
you made it a m-th-f-ckin daily routine
to blow me up, but i ain’t callin less i wanna get my d-ck (ah)
oh yeah i got the present, ? for the kicks y’all
get a carter coat to go with that and i might stay fo awhile
n-gg-ro gotcha fiendin for the flavor of d-ck
gotcha cravin it, even gotcha tastin
the sh-t was simple when i f-cked you on the first date
d-mn you must of known i’d go up in ya cus you had on that lace
that night, hooker, i ain’t forgot the thick brown -ss
but i’ll just hit it when i want, yeah i like the way ya f-ck
(then why you never call?)
cus i be stuck in traffic, or handlin business,
why you give me static bout it
ya know you aint the only one so what ya trippin ho
youre fiendin for the deuce-nine d-ck
and f-ckin my homie from the four ya know

[chorus]
ya treatin me so bad
and i wanna know why
why did ya do me this way, baby
i wanna know why
why, why did ya treat me so bad
whoooooa, i wanna know why
why did ya treat me, treat me
treat me, baaaaaad
why did ya treat me so bad

[brotha lynch]
well i’m so high off this chronic sh-t
i b-mped my head on a helicopter
and i ain’t knowin what to tell my doctor
a couple of hits’ll have yout fiendin 24 street d-ck
the night-stalker from the fo’
lose a hoe, bruise a ho
do ya hoe cus if ya do i’ll put you up
we’ll make some g’s up out of a momo ho
all the free dope you wanna smoke
and if i come up short, i’ll let you meet my mini mac 1-0
cus in the gardens where the chronic grows
we stay high, way high, b-tch what you think
i keep my skrilla up in the bank so ain’t no gank
so f-ck me or feed me or you don’t need me
find your bg, kickin it with my yg’s
and we just gettin high of this chronic sh-t
bumpin heads on the helicopter
and we not knowin what to tell our doctor
a couple of hits’ll have ya fiendin 24 street d-ck
and break em off proper

[mr. doctor]
now tell me how many joints can ya smoke to this n-gg-
and how many b–tches will suck my d-ck
take a hit, take a hit, then you p-ss the sh-t
get to coughin eyes water, why you f-ckin with the chronic
cus we dip front to back, and my locos ride
bumpin season of the sicc, switchin side to side
now let me slide to some gangsta sh-t
bout a b–tch that we was switchin fo the f-ck of it
and never had to claim that trick
blaze some weed, gettin paid from the sucka
and when a n-gg- leave, p-ss a homie on his way to f-ck her yeeah
had the b-tch down for the calls in fact
had the m-th-f-cka straightup macked

[brotha lynch]
and thats right b-tch, you know me
runnin that sh-t like so much pimp
some n-gg- got mad and went to the pad for the mac
but didn’t know, i packed a forty-fo
ho, remember when you touched me on my d-ck and said
oh! yo sh-t’s a rock, but you didn’t know
you touched the barrel of a forty-fo
fo in the mornin, ho you was at my door
and i’m knowin these raggety hos, so b-tch
you know i know you was at my locc’s house
f-ck the bullsh-t, ho
cus we know, we got ya fiendin
24 and 29 street d-ck

[chorus]

- mr doctor lyrics

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