A song by DJ Assault on his album "Off the Chains for the Y2K". While it deviates slighty from his usual style of Ghetto Tech and fast cuts, it still embodies his twisted mysogenic logic and lyrical skills. Assault hisself gave me permisson to post these here lyrics, suckas hatin' will get they mouth blew out.


intro
Fuck you hoe, no more
Fuck you hoe

The phone is ringing off the motherfuckin' hook, take a look
at my caller ID
who could it be?
These hoes keep paging me
and calling me
catastrophe
what they want from me?
Nigga who knows?
Nigga, I got tools, hook me up, everyday on the Dre way
Bitches just won't stay away, I need ho repellant.
Nigga, no repellant can stop these
rat-ass, roach-ass hoes, chasing cheese
but you know how the story goes.
They think a nigga rich
now they wanna be my bitch
but i've still got the same motto.
And ho quit calling me like I just hit the Lotto
or the Big Game or the big shame,
Wanna talk to a nigga, but to start you a nigga, ho
move on, groove on, make a nigga get a new phone.

chorus
Fuck you hoe, don't call me no more (fuck you hoe}
Fuck you hoe, don't call me no more (no more)
Fuck you hoe, don't call me no more (fuck you hoe)
Fuck you hoe, don't call me no more (no more)

What be wrong with bitches? I be gone with bitches.
See an old bitch, don't start no shit
But later on, when I'm home, tryin' to bone a bitch
playin' on my phone, bitch leave me alone!
Now what do you do with a ho that just won't leave you alone?
That's why I made this song. So I can put your ass way out there,
on Front Street
over a funk beat
you punk freak
Was the dick that tight?
Got you sick at night?
Turnin' and tossin' and worryin' who coughin' and chokin'
Tryin' to gobble on my Moet bottle, touchin' your ex-throttle?
I got hoes from here to Colorado
so stand in line to fuck
I ain't lyin' to fuck.
So quit lyin' on my dick, bitch
and I don't wanna hear that pregnant shit.

chorus

With caller ID and *69, you'd think a nigga could put this kitty-ass shit behind
But hoes just messing, ho don't test me
Fuckin' with the work can get you sniped like Wesley
And bitch don't test Assault
They arrest Assault for assault
Please bitches I done for it
Did invite you over for a slumber
now I got to change my pager and my cell number
Murder be the case that they gave word
If you don't stop this shit and learn to behave, girl
call me again and I won't be responsible
In the streets I might snach out your tonsils, ho
I'm a monster ho, how could this bold, this bitch
then got my voicemail access code
And now she callin' back my hoes
and that's why the hook goes the way it goes

chorus

spoken
Man, I'm telling you, we that sick of the bullshit.
All this playin' on my phone, paging me 80 goddamn times a day.
I need stock in fuckin' Duracell, I buy so many batteries for my pager, bitch.
Fuck you, ho, just don't call me no more.

The number you have reached is not in service at this time and there is no new number.
Please be sure you have checked the telephone directory for the right number and you are dialing correctly.
This is a recording.


i transcribed these lyrics myself. if i misinterpreted any words, please let me know.

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