| I wish they all could be California
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| I wish they all could be California
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| I wish they all could be California hoes
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| California bitches (Tim Dog)
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| Some bad hoes
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| Bitch you digging in the wrong dirt bitch
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| Ain’t no gold in here
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| Fucking with the wrong niggas
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| Knoc-Turn'al, Slip Capone, Short Dog
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| I knew a tight white bitch named Marianna
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| She lived right around the corner from Temecula
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| See I was bored, I fucked both of them whores before
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| So I called my other bitch Elsinore
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| She wasn’t cracking so I called up Hesperia and Monrovia and Valencia
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| I got some pussy from Pomona and her sister Corona
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| It ain’t nothing like them hoes in southern California
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| I knew a bitch named Irvine
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| She had a cousin with the name Santa Ana, it was short for Anaheim
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| I got high in Riverside with Receda and Rosarito
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| And Santa Clarita and
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| I’m pleased to meet you
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| I’ve been all around the world
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| And with over a thousand girls
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| And homeboy I don’t know what you have been told
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| But eskimo pussy is mighty cold (brrrr!)
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| These hoes, these hoes, these hoes
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| Got cash sniffin' noses
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| All around the globe back to California
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| Everywhere I go they all up on us
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| These hoes, these hoes, these hoes
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| Got cash sniffin' noses
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| You might be gold but lately I been doing the platinum pose
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| Knoc-Turn'al's on 128 girl
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| What? |
| I’ll be right over
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| Magazines choreograph me in photos
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| I put out with three dime pieces slamming four doors
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| And if I can use cities in relation to hoes
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| I probably fucked San Fernando’s daughter, Santa Barbera
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| And her best friend Alameda and Sierra
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| And Ramona’s little sister Covina
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| And I don’t know what you thought
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| Whether you turned the cat in the night bitch
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| Still the only manipulation weapon you got
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| Knoc-Turn'al ain’t the one to fall victim to your plots
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| Before I save a ho from the block
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| Her great grandchildren’s corpses will rot
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| Fuck a ho
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| I’d rather have money and a multiple round spitting Glock
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| Four mansions with multiple cars investing my chips in stock
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| Even if I can’t spell dow jones I still pull out fat knocks
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| It don’t stop
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| They say this is a man’s world
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| Can’t understand it girl
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| All you ever wanted was a man like Chante Moore
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| You know us ballers never have one woman
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| And when you need us we never come running
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| That’s why now you think about your ex again
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| You want to page him just to have sex with him
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| But instead you better call your next of kin
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| And complain these ballers won’t let you in
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| She don’t love you she loves money and sex
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| Bitches shoot you in the head for a rolex
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| I know the bitch is a dick fiend
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| I fucked her one night when she was sixteen
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| I know it seems like a long time ago
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| But I fucked her again when she was twenty four
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| Bitch I’m an old school vet they call me Too $hort
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| Look your woman in the eyes
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| What she do it for? |
| Biyatch!
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| You know these hoes man
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| They’d do anything if they think it’s for the money
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| That’s why |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cash Sniffin' Noses , by - Knoc-Turn'al. Song from the album LA Confidential Presents Knoc-Turn'al, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп