- Votes:
 - Composers:
 - John Edward Rhone
 - C-murder
 - Ontario Haynes
 
- See also:
 
C-Murder - Nasty Chick lyrics
Listen up motherfuckers, I got a story to tell
 All you niggas out there holding hands
 With these motherfuckers street
 Them motherfuckers behind doors holding meat
 You might be holding a nasty ass
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes
 I was in love like a motherfucker with this bitch
 But uh, I wasn't doing nothing but making her rich
 (Shit)
 But damn, she used to played it so cooled
 I guess she must take C for a fool
 I swear the sex had my motherfucking mind gone
 And I was tweaking like a fiend for that heroin
 And when I put it in, the way that she moaned
 Made me never ever wanted to leave her alone
 The back rubs in the hot tubs, watching videos
 It made me crawl when she took it all down her throat
 Surprise, shit I hit her with a five karat
 And later on we can talk about marriage
 (Huh)
 Ya name tatted on my chest, fuck them other broads
 We hold hands when we walking through the shopping malls
 My brother told me V charge it to the game
 But uh, listen up 'cause it's a motherfucking shame
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes
 C-Murder - Nasty Chick - http://motolyrics.com/c-murder/nasty-chick-lyrics.html
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes
 I used to page this girl about ten times a day
 But after 9, she was hard to find
 One of a kind, huh, so I was blind with the problems we had
 Found a number in her purse, said it was her dad
 I got a phone call from my nigga Jubilee
 He told me, he saw my girl in the movies
 With another nigga, nut it wasn't me
 I said man, you must be tripping, nigga it couldn't be
 I thought it was love but I guess the love was gone
 So then I put up the phone and then I went home
 Park the car, walked in the door, walked up the stairs
 And I damn near slipped on her underwear
 Opened the bedroom door, seen a ho
 With a nigga ro, 'bout to grab my fo, fo, hold
 Damn, bitch I thought we loved each other
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my brother
 Bitch, get the fuck out my house
 Pick up your dirty ass draws, get that cum off your chest
 And wipe your motherfucking mouth and get the fuck out, biatch
 Fuck you gonna fuck my motherfucking boy
 Ol' cheesy ass ho, I didn't like you anyway
 Biatch, I catch you in the club, I'ma sneak your ass
 Fuck, nasty bitch
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes
 Nasty bitch gonna fuck my boy
 Now how you gonna fuck my boy
 That's why I don't love them hoes
 You can't trust these dog ass hoes














