H.W.A. - 1-900-Bitches lyrics

rate me

[Intro:]

[touch tone sounds]

[Children in unison]

Momma, Momma, dad's calling 1-900 numbers again!

[phone rings]

[Verse 1]

Picture this: the house is empty

You're looking at the phone, so motherfucking tempting

Then you see us on the TV, so you copy the number

Real fine hoes make your mind start to wander

Dial 1-900 on your telephone

Hoping that your wife don't bring her fat ass home

The phone is ringing, your heart is beating fast

You know I'm talking shit on your monkey ass

1-900-248-2437

You dialed it again, that makes it eleven

Times you called, yeah, that's a bitch

Call it again, 'cause you're making me rich

Five dollars a minute you call

After that, you get fucked up your doo doo walls

Seventy five cents, now the rates begin

[Chorus:]

1-900-248-2437 Bitches

A hoe with an attitude is fucking with your ears

[x2]

[Verse 2]

The telephone company and the workers, too

Looking at your bill, tripping on you

Time after time, they see the same number

Them goofy motherfuckers start to wonder

So they went to the phone, and tried it for themselves

Four weeks later, they got to seek help

Just like the pipe, they call it addiction

You can't stop calling, creating confliction

Still your fucking wife in the middle of the night

Me on the phone, you there at home

Buying me diamonds, then a fur coat

Next comes the rope off your motherfucking throat

And after you steal everything you can

You go seek counseling just to get another chance

Eight weeks later, there you go again

You see the number, go get your paper and pen

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 3]

President Bush, and Barbara, too

Sitting at home, with nothing to do

Knowing in their minds they got a big problem

They want to call up the hoes to help them solve it

Now what in the fuck they do that for?

'Cause Barbera won't soothe Bush no more

All the way in the White House, they blowing up the bill

Motherfucking hoes, yeah, you know the deal

Noriega, sitting in his cell

He want to get away, to get some bail

He want to call uπ the hoes, but no collect calls

Just laugh in the joint, and play with your balls

Poor Mandela, just getting home

Calling up the hoes on the telephone

All the way in Africe, we got it going on

Motherfucking hoes, you know we're too strong

[Chorus: x4]