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(feat. Brotha Lynch Hung) [Mr. Doctor] Biatch, I see you standin in the window, fiendin One o'clock at night a nigga high and baby fiendin You made it a muthafuckin daily routine To blow me up, but I ain't callin less I wanna get my dick (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 Niggero gotcha fiendin for the flavor of dick Gotcha cravin it, even gotcha tastin The shit was simple when I fucked you on the first date Damn 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 ass But I'll just hit it when I want, yeah I like the way ya fuck (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 dick And fuckin 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 Letras de cancionesI 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 shit I bumped 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 dick 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, bitch what you think I keep my skrilla up in the bank so ain't no gank So fuck 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 shit Bumpin heads on the helicopter And we not knowin what to tell our doctor A couple of hits'll have ya fiendin 24 street dick And break em off proper [Mr. Doctor] Now tell me how many joints can ya smoke to this nigga And how many biatches will suck my dick Take a hit, take a hit, then you pass the shit Get to coughin eyes water, why you fuckin 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 shit Bout a biatch that we was switchin fo the fuck of it And never had to claim that trick Blaze some weed, gettin paid from the sucka And when a nigga leave, pass a homie on his way to fuck her yeeah Had the bitch down for the calls in fact Had the muthafucka straightup macked [Brotha Lynch] And thats right bitch, you know me Runnin that shit like so much pimp Some nigga 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 dick and said Oh! Yo shit'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 bitch You know I know you was at my locc's house Fuck the bullshit, ho Cus we know, we got ya fiendin 24 and 29 street dick [Chorus] From Letras Mania