Snitches Bitches Lyrics

Snitches Bitches lyrics

[ JED ]



Nigga what's up



What?



What's yo muthafuckin problem?



- Better than sayin jack



They let me go



Yo muthafucka, I don't wanna hear that weak shit



- Nigga what?



Fuck that, I don't wanna hear that weak shit,



you old rat-infested goverment informant cheese-eatin ass son of a bitch!



You better have your vest on cause you 'bout to come up short



( *shots* )







[ VERSE 1: Richie Rich ]



Caught a brother one day gettin out of a cop car



I know there's more to come, but the few that have so far



Talked to police about more than a court date



They're victims of a certain situation I'll illustrate



Day-to-day pigeons poppin all that junk



About the dollars they makin, a half a ki in the trunk



Mobile phone in his lap and ten cars in the shop



Sellin more than coke and side orders of hop



But there's a catch to that, the boy wasn't prepared



He caught a case on a humbug, now he's scared



No more hangin with the fellas drinkin gin and juice



He's in a situation now where he can't be loose



Everybody wears jailies and sleeps on bunks



And it's easy to tell the men from the punks



So the ones who rhyme but run they mouths like bitches



Wants to hit the bullpen, they turn snitches







[ JED ]



That's why I don't fuck with these old soft ass niggas,



out here runnin round here like they 187 artists.



Killers don't talk!



And these hoes supposed to be high roller ass niggas?



Ain't that a bitch!



Everytime I look around instead of stickin to the rules of the game,



they let circus asses makin decisions for themselves.



[ Richie Rich ]



Yeah, it's hard times, Young JED,



but it goes a little somethin like this:







[ VERSE 2: Richie Rich ]



The game is hard as wood, the macks don't splinter



But yet and still trick-ass niggas wanna enter



And with ballot in hand they rush to vote



To elect themselves into this game of dope



But yo bro, the situation is real



Don't slip in this game on a banana peel



There's a lot of brothers runnin around pluckin collars



Stuck up due to the fact they got dollars



Most of em punks gettin marked by young bitches



Put in the county, and the punks turn snitches



Given a alias, now he's set free



Or offered his job to be an f-e-d



I don't understand how a brother could turn



His cheek on another, homie, when will ya learn?



The talkin to cops makes it ten times worse



But they keep on talkin, verse after verse



Why do brothers wanna hop in this game?



Runnin around, they don't know the main frame



And when they're caught, they get to talkin like Polly



But they don't want a cracker, just bumpin em, snitchin



You know what I mean?



Now it's the high rollers and not the fiends



Take off the Rolex and park all the cars



You just a punk, yeah, you know who you are



Why did you get in the game if you wasn't equipped?



So what you're havin money and your car is whipped?



Keep talkin to police, then you're gonna get ???



Cause you'se a punk in a city of players, you'se a stupid muthafucka







[ JED ]



Double R..



What's up with these old broke, bus ticket-type ass bitches out here, huh?



Always tryin to get with a nigga with some mail..



They need to get a muthafuckin j-o-b..



Quit blowin up these niggas' beepers,



old stankin ass muthafuckin bitches..



Here's somethin I wanna tell all you hoes:



Fuck you!







[ VERSE 3: Richie Rich ]



Man, these hoes in the Town ain't shit



Can't fuck with a nigga unless he's rich



Sportin gold ones, man, tryin to make that mail



Hoe mopin and hopin that you would treat her to nails



Hoe, I can't treat, nah, nah, it's '89



Back in '87 when I was stuck to the grind



Money flowin like a river but hoe, I'm not trickin



My Zapco's hittin so hard, the light's clippin



Girls on the bus stop, all of them coppin a plea



To get with the man who slings d



Whether ridin a 'Stang or a rag top Beamer



The h-o's want to get with who's cleaner



So boys from the O, all of those who make riches



What do we do? Dog bitches



Knockin and sockin is a everyday thing



The turfs and the side show is where the boys hang



Hoe on jock for a brother with a fade



Some zeniths, some vogues and the boy's got it made



As she makes the block with a baby in a stroller



Her only destination: to find a high roller



But hoe get real, run and go get a job



Cause if I ever come to snatch ya, I be ridin a mob







( *horn honked* )



[ woman ]



Who is that?



[ Richie Rich ]



It's me, come on..



[ woman ]



Ah-ah, I didn't recognize you in that shit..



Where your Mustang?



[ Richie Rich ]



Ain't that about a bitch?



These hoes out here think niggas gon' taxi em around on gold ones?



Nah-nah, it's 1990, y'all hoes better ??? to these muthafuckin old schools



Bitch, jump in the bucket..



[ woman ]



The door don't open..



[ JED ]



Double R, fuck that hoe!



Tell her make like the muthafuckin Duke boys and crawl through the muthafuckin
window







(Snitches) (snitches) [fades]



(Bitches) (bitches) [fades]