เนื้อเพลง B*tches Ain't Sh*t - Ben Folds Five

B*tches Ain't Sh*t, b*tches ain't sh*t
B*tches ain't sh*t but hoes and tricks
Lick on these nuts and s*ck the d*ck
Lets get the f*ck out after you're done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run...
I used to know a b*tch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and f*ck the hoes at night
Tighter than a mutharf*ckin' gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthaf*ckin' Compton streets

Peep that sh*t, got deep and it was on
Number one song after number one song
Long as my muthaf*ckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a f*ck where the b*tch was at
But she was hangin' with a white b*tch doin' the sh*t she do
S*ckin' on his d*ck just to get a buck or two
And the ends that she got meant nothin'
Now she's suing cuz the sh*t she be doin' ain't sh*t

B*tches can't hang with the streets
She found herself short
Now she's takin' me to court
That's some real conversation for your ass

I once had a b*tch named Mandy May
Used to be up in them guts like everyday
The p*ssy was the bomb, had a n*gga on sprung
I was in love like a muthaf*cka lickin' the protung
The homies used to tell me that she wasn't no good
But I'm the maniac in black, Mr. Snoop Eastwood
So I figure n*ggas wouldn't trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time

I'm back in the muthaf*ckin' county jail
Six months on my chest, now it's time to bail
I get's released on a hot sunny day
My n*gga D.O.C. and my homey Dr Dre
Scooped in a coupe, Snoop we got the news
Your girl was trickin' while you was draped in your county blues
I ain't been out a second
Now I already gotta do
Some muthaf*ckin chin checkin

Move up the block as we groove down the block
See my girl's house, Dre, pass the glock
Kick in the door, I look on the floor
It's my little cousin Daz and he's f*ckin' my hoe
I uncocked my sh*t...
I'm heart-broke but I'm still locked
Man, f*ck that b*tch!
...3,...4,...

B*tches ain't sh*t but hoes and tricks
Lick on these nuts and s*ck the d*ck
Gets the f*ck out after you're done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run...
I used to know a b*tch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and f*ck the hoes at night
Tighter than a mutharf*ckin' gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthaf*ckin' Compton streets

Peep that sh*t got deep and it was on
Number one song after number one song
Long as my muthaf*ckin' pockets was fat
I didn't give a f*ck where the b*tch was at
But she was hangin' with a white b*tch doin' the sh*t she do
S*ckin' on his d*ck just to get a buck or two
And the ends that she got meant nothin'
Now she's suing cuz the sh*t she be doin' ain't sh*t

B*tches can't hang with the streets
She found herself short
So now she's takin' me to court
That's some real conversation for your ass
B*tches can't hang with the streets
B*tches can't hang with the streets
B*tches can't hang with the streets
B*tches can't hang with the streets