Mr. Doctor - Treat 'Em Like Hoez lyrics

(feat. Brotha Lynch Hung) [Mr. Doctor] b*atch, I see you standin in the window, fiendin One o'clock at night a n***a high and baby fiendin You made it a muthaf**in daily routine To blow me up, but I ain't callin less I wanna get my dick (ah) Oh yeah I got the present, ? for the kicks y'all Get a carter coat to go with that and I might stay fo awhile n******go gotcha fiendin for the flavor of dick Gotcha cravin it, even gotcha tastin The sh** was simple when I f**ed you on the first date Damn you must of known I'd go up in ya cus you had on that lace That night, hooker, I ain't forgot the thick brown a** But I'll just hit it when I want, yeah I like the way ya f** (Then why you never call?) Cus I be stuck in traffic, or handlin business Why you give me static bout it Ya know you ain't the only one so what ya trippin ho Youre fiendin for the deuce-nine dick And f**in my homie from the four ya know [Chorus] Ya treatin me so bad And I wanna know why Why did ya do me this way, baby I wanna know why Why, why did ya treat me so bad Whoooooa, I wanna know why Why did ya treat me, treat me Treat me, baaaaaad Why did ya treat me so bad [Brotha Lynch] Well I'm so high off this chronic sh** I bumped my head on a helicopter And I ain't knowin what to tell my doctor A couple of hits'll have yout fiendin 24 street dick The night-stalker from the fo' Lose a hoe, bruise a ho Do ya hoe cus if ya do I'll put you up We'll make some g's up out of a momo ho All the free dope you wanna smoke And if I come up short, I'll let you meet my mini mac 1-0 Cus in the gardens where the chronic grows We stay high, way high, b**h what you think I keep my skrilla up in the bank so ain't no gank So f** me or feed me or you don't need me Find your BG, kickin it with my YG's And we just gettin high of this chronic sh** Bumpin heads on the helicopter And we not knowin what to tell our doctor A couple of hits'll have ya fiendin 24 street dick And break em off proper [Mr. Doctor] Now tell me how many joints can ya smoke to this n***a And how many b*atches will s** my dick Take a hit, take a hit, then you pa** the sh** Get to coughin eyes water, why you f**in with the chronic Cus we dip front to back, and my locos ride Bumpin season of the sicc, switchin side to side Now let me slide to some gangsta sh** Bout a b*atch that we was switchin fo the f** of it And never had to claim that trick Blaze some weed, gettin paid from the s**a And when a n***a leave, pa** a homie on his way to f** her yeeah Had the b**h down for the calls in fact Had the muthaf**a straightup macked [Brotha Lynch] And thats right b**h, you know me Runnin that sh** like so much pimp Some n***a got mad and went to the pad for the mac But didn't know, I packed a forty-fo Ho, remember when you touched me on my dick and said Oh! Yo sh**'s a rock, but you didn't know You touched the barrel of a forty-fo Fo in the mornin, ho you was at my door And I'm knowin these raggety hoes, so b**h You know I know you was at my locc's house f** the bullsh**, ho Cus we know, we got ya fiendin 24 and 29 street dick [Chorus]