Verse 1: Treach
|
|
Bass me, face me, task the tip of a tastey
|
Bitches are sweet as a pastry
|
You don't know me homey, from a peach or a pony
|
I'm the Only, now your lyrics look lonely
|
Lyrically fortified, born, I'm immortalised
|
Lightin shit up from Wranglers to raw hides
|
Packed with black positivity and wizardry
|
I'm my own body and it built for partyin
|
I rip hearts apart as if it's my last rap
|
the lords abroad and I represent that ass dat
|
shows seniority, lays the foundation
|
Bolos and donuts, oh I built the nation
|
Keep the faith tastin, keep the touch clutched
|
Keep your face way away from the rough stuff
|
If it ain't rough it ain't rugged
|
Either you are born with none or you're stacked or star-studded
|
>From the intro to end I will flow
|
and aslo, yo come let the ho's go
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho (Let the ho's go)
|
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
|
Verse 2: Treach
|
|
Meet my friend Mac 10, sittin backpacked and mackin
|
Thirsty for action, workin and smackin
|
The last of the allies, smoke em up shall I
|
or should I? I'm sure to give it a good try
|
No need for a survival kit, there's none left to fix
|
They've all been blown into dust bits
|
Floatin in space, spinnin in infinity
|
Part of the start is the end of any identity
|
Lost in the source, no cause, so the boss gettin off
|
East, the West, the South, break North
|
You'll bite as my chew, as a guard duckin a graveyard
|
Actin is for actors so you rap but don't you play hard
|
I got the Mac to wax and I ain't tryin to fall back
|
I rap like I'm the tops, stay real cos I'm all that
|
It's my way on a highway, forget your friends
|
cos I stick that ass like cowboys stickin a contact lens
|
Let the ho's go
|
|
Chorus
|
|
Verse 3: Treach
|
|
You say you're hittin hard, huh, I say you're hardly hittin
|
I grip ya quick like a pussy in a kitten mitten
|
I'm gettin grand and greater, sucker catch ya later
|
He gettin paid with the fade of a Space Invader
|
You lookin Moonstruck, fear, start to talkin tough
|
then sayin "sorry" like I really give a motherfuck
|
You're little late, don't you think that was the wrong approach-a?
|
A sqwuab by the name of Treach is sure to up and smoke ya
|
At anytime, anywhere, for any wanted cause
|
I got a double-barrelled pump that's sayin "Give me yours"
|
Then I'ma dash in a flash, duck and go for cover
|
Cos I have one for this robbery and many others
|
Another gangster, no I'm like an angry ecker
|
Droppin you and gettin mad if you don't say "Thankyer"
|
The clip clockin killers, and plus my county crew
|
I gotta contract for your life, now they after you
|
So don't try ta hide or apologise
|
Apologies and go meet a French eyes is wise
|
So if you know what I mean and have a hop block
|
and never ever seen a day when the money stops
|
You gotta put up your fists, just to let me know
|
Ain't I gotta pump it hard to let the ho's go
|
Let the ho's go
|
|
Chorus
|
|
Verse 4: Treach
|
|
Competition on canvas, never have I heard the tongue
|
Throw a watch at me without it being fuckin hung
|
Give it a new style, neck him up and keep him learning
|
Should've had projects in the days of Mississippi Burning
|
I let her see the white sheet hit the concrete
|
and see that head go off and down from a thousand feet
|
Cos the brother's around me don't even play all that
|
They see a sheet and a cross, they say "Oh, gimme that"
|
Halloween in Illtown and don't you be a ghost
|
Cos you get your broke or even worst smoked
|
Now this rhyme is regard' lyrically low cold
|
But it had to have the flow to let the ho's go
|
Let the ho's go
|
|
Chorus extended
|
|
-----------------
|
Let The Ho's Go
|
| Naughty By Nature |
