Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Where Da Hoes At, artist - E.S.G.. Date of issue: 04.04.1995
Song language: English
Where Da Hoes At |
| Where the hoes at, where the foes at |
| Where the smoke at, nigga roll that |
| Hoes shut your motherfucking mouth and get naked |
| Since they opened up the shop, you know we gone wreck it |
| See I hear they talking down and the boys spreading rumors |
| National club hoppers, and all you consumers |
| Who keep em all body rocking from state to state |
| Cause the real gone be real and the fake gone be fake |
| So I’ma, regulate and I’mma squash the chat |
| Draw low in my fo' door Escalade or Cadillac |
| Looseless ain’t shit, think it’s time I shut em |
| No pros ain’t shit, I think it’s time I bug em |
| Up to the Californ' bring all the dollars home |
| Southside represent, still sitting on chrome |
| So what’s wrong, you ain’t think I could do it again |
| I’m off the heezy, fa sheezy number one top ten |
| I’m on fire, can’t sleep on the E |
| Everyday Street Gangsta that’s E.S.G |
| And I’m swanging and banging |
| Thinking throwed, fifty shine for sho' |
| Put your money on us, sticky green and stuff |
| Number one on hit singles ten weeks cause that’s us |
| This for the ballas, young shot callas |
| Nineteen inch blades on the Impalas |
| Call us to get laid tonight |
| I got sweets rolled tight, I got sprayed by ice |
| I hit the hiiiighway, rolling my waaay |
| You’re my mofos, raise up the window, blaze up the indo |
| Now uh, what up whodie, what up soldier |
| How you like us now Wreckshop taking over |
| Put it in your face yeah we some real true playas |
| If you feel us your some killas throw your rollies in the air |
| The big don figga’s back, I’m back on track |
| I got a four in a sack tell me where them hoes at |
| 7−1 Tre that’s my area code |
| We sipping serve, flipping birds never riding on the road |
| Bo' guarding the boulevard riding regulars on a one way |
| Car wash we squash on a Sunday |
| Ain’t plexing in Texas, gripping grain respected |
| Riding Lacs or Lexus, south man we exit |
| Flipping more cream means, green by the hour |
| Sipping codeine leaning like an Eiffel Tower |
| Got boppers and shoppers, car hoppers and choppers |
| Trunk poppers, Glock cockers, block lockers can’t stop us |
| Drop the top and I roll, sticky green and I’m smoking |
| Hitting poppa doser, feticcini and copeling |
| Some roof wide open, watch the good game flip |
| As the Texas freak nick showing wood grain strip |
| If you trip on a dip, I got a clip for the jack |
| So tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me where the hoes at |