W.G. - Stop Cuf'n These Hoes lyrics

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W.G. - Stop Cuf'n These Hoes lyrics

[Hook: Billy Cook] I ain't cuffing no hoes, I'm married to the streets Ain't no time to get mad, plus your b**h chose me She recognize the game, plus the G in me See playas get chose, so your b**h chose me [Billy Cook] Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Stop, cuffing these hoes - 2x [Jay'Ton] Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Never catch Jay'Ton, cuffing up in these streets Only n***as in my slab, riding in the front seat Can't have the smell of perfume, on my Tall-Tee I'm a gangsta, I ain't tripping if you let my n***a hit I'ma call another b**h, and try and see what I can get f** a dime, I refuse to trick and cuff s*uts Hop fly, introducing they feet to these cuts So swift, and plus I like to ride one deep Unless I'm with my n***as flipping, 22's on a Fleet That's how it is, and that's the way it gotta remain I'm a nationwide pimp, ain't a damn thang changed [Hook] [Boss] I can't be cuffing these hoes, I know how to f** em Then it's off to the load, smoke a cigarette then I'm off to the road At the shack, with the next b**h Trying to get this hoe, to buy me this brand new necklace Running through these hoes reckless, never protectless I can't put shackles on a b**h, out here in Texas n***as get these dime piece hoes, and lock 'em down I take one look at these dog a** hoes, and knock 'em down And keep going, cause I know a hoe gon keep hoe'ing I'm a gangsta, I can't gal that b**h y'all n***as knowing I use to a n***a like you, f**ing up my day I'ma let that b**h s** me up, in my rag Chevrolet [W.G.] n***a please, playas get chosed off top These n***as be loving bops, I just stop and watch I ain't tripping, cause the game I be spitting Be leaving these hoes sick, like they was bedridden Stop hating, and learn how to share these hoes These n***as be taking cla**es, on cuffing these hoes I'm a G, and that's all I got to say When they see that candy red, they gon mind anyway Ain't no stopping and blocking, and mind game Representing for, the Slow Loud and the Bang Me, Boss, Jay be pimping these dames Knock 'em down fast, and pa** in they lane [Hook] [Trae] I'm a certified pimp, by the way I spit When I spit I spit it how my flow, my mouthpiece so sick Got game by the mile, and plus I like to block when I smile So boppers tend to ride my dick, like I been gone for a while Cuffing ain't in my vocabulary, I strut like a Don Run up on me bumping bout a b**h, you might get met with my palm The only thing I learned to love, around this b**h is my money When it come to hoes I run up in em, and I leave 'em for dummies Same rules apply to boppers, as these roach a** n***as Take your roach a** and get the f** on, you ain't touching my figgas I mean it and I put that on a G, who's stomping in Gators Don't try to cuff, and it ain't hard to see that I's a playa [Hook] [Billy Cook] Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Don't get mad, cause your b**h chose me Stop, cuffing these hoes - 2x (*Billy Cook*) Stop cuffing these hoes, yeeeah Stop cuffing these hoes, hoe-ha-hoe-ha-hoe Stop cuffing these hoes Hoe don't get mad at me, a G