| Song | Let the Ho's Go |
| Artist | Naughty by Nature |
| Album | Naughty by Nature |
| 作词 : Brown, Criss, Gist ... | |
| Verse 1：Treach | |
| Bass me, face me, task the tip of a tastey | |
| Bitches are sweet as a pastry | |
| You don't know me homey, from a peach or a pony | |
| I'm the Only, now your lyrics look lonely | |
| Lyrically fortified, born, I'm immortalised | |
| Lightin shit up from Wranglers to raw hides | |
| Packed with black positivity and wizardry | |
| I'm my own body and it built for partyin | |
| I rip hearts apart as if it's my last rap | |
| ???? abroad and I represent that ass dat | |
| shows seniority, lays the foundation | |
| Bolos and donuts, oh I built the nation | |
| Keep the faith tastin, keep the touch clutched | |
| Keep your face way away from the rough stuff | |
| If it ain't rough it ain't rugged | |
| Either you are born with none or you're stacked or star-studded | |
| ]From the intro to end I will flow | |
| and aslo, yo come let the ho's go | |
| Chorus: | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho (Let the ho's go) | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Verse 2: Treach | |
| Meet my friend Mac 10, sittin backpacked and mackin | |
| Thirsty for action, workin and smackin | |
| The last of the allies, smoke em up shall I | |
| or should I? I'm sure to give it a good try | |
| No need for a survival kit, there's none left to fix | |
| They've all been blown into dust bits | |
| Floatin in space, spinnin in infinity | |
| Part of the start is the end of any identity | |
| Lost in the source, no cause, so the boss gettin off | |
| East, the West, the South, break North | |
| You'll bite as my chew, as a guard duckin a graveyard | |
| Actin is for actors so you rap but don't you play hard | |
| I got the Mac to wax and I ain't tryin to fall back | |
| I rap like I'm the tops, stay real cos I'm all that | |
| It's my way on a highway, forget your friends | |
| cos I stick that ass like cowboys stickin a contact lens | |
| Let the ho's go | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: Treach | |
| You say you're hittin hard, huh, I say you're hardly hittin | |
| I grip ya quick like a pussy in a kitten mitten | |
| I'm gettin grand and greater, sucker catch ya later | |
| He gettin paid with the fade of a Space Invader | |
| You lookin Moonstruck, fear, start to talkin tough | |
| then sayin 'sorry' like I really give a motherfuck | |
| You're little late, don't you think that was the wrong approach-a? | |
| A sqwuab by the name of Treach is sure to up and smoke ya | |
| At anytime, anywhere, for any wanted cause | |
| I got a double-barrelled pump that's sayin 'Give me yours' | |
| Then I'ma dash in a flash, duck and go for cover | |
| Cos I have one for this robbery and many others | |
| Another gangster, no I'm like an angry ecker | |
| Droppin you and gettin mad if you don't say 'Thankyer' | |
| The clip clockin killers, and plus my county crew | |
| I gotta clutch, I'll clean your life, naw not after you | |
| So don't try ta hide or apologise | |
| Apologies and go meet a French eyes is wise | |
| So if you know what I mean and have a hop block | |
| and never ever seen a day when the money stops | |
| You gotta put up your fists, just to let me know | |
| Ain't I gotta pump it hard to let the ho's go | |
| Let the ho's go | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 4: Treach | |
| Competition on canvas, never have I heard the tongue | |
| Throw a watch at me without it being fuckin hung | |
| Give it a new style, neck him up and keep him learning | |
| Should've had projects in the days of Mississippi Burning | |
| I let her see the white sheet hit the concrete | |
| and see that head go off and down from a thousand feet | |
| Cos the brother's around me don't even play all that | |
| They see a sheet and a cross, they say 'Oh, gimme that' | |
| Hollow wind in Illtown and don't you be a ghost | |
| Cos you get your broke or even worst smoked | |
| Now this rhyme is regard' lyrically low cold | |
| But it had to have the flow to let the ho's go | |
| Let the ho's go | |
| Chorus extended |
| zuò cí : Brown, Criss, Gist ... | |
| Verse 1: Treach | |
| Bass me, face me, task the tip of a tastey | |
| Bitches are sweet as a pastry | |
| You don' t know me homey, from a peach or a pony | |
| I' m the Only, now your lyrics look lonely | |
| Lyrically fortified, born, I' m immortalised | |
| Lightin shit up from Wranglers to raw hides | |
| Packed with black positivity and wizardry | |
| I' m my own body and it built for partyin | |
| I rip hearts apart as if it' s my last rap | |
| ???? abroad and I represent that ass dat | |
| shows seniority, lays the foundation | |
| Bolos and donuts, oh I built the nation | |
| Keep the faith tastin, keep the touch clutched | |
| Keep your face way away from the rough stuff | |
| If it ain' t rough it ain' t rugged | |
| Either you are born with none or you' re stacked or starstudded | |
| From the intro to end I will flow | |
| and aslo, yo come let the ho' s go | |
| Chorus: | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho Let the ho' s go | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho | |
| Verse 2: Treach | |
| Meet my friend Mac 10, sittin backpacked and mackin | |
| Thirsty for action, workin and smackin | |
| The last of the allies, smoke em up shall I | |
| or should I? I' m sure to give it a good try | |
| No need for a survival kit, there' s none left to fix | |
| They' ve all been blown into dust bits | |
| Floatin in space, spinnin in infinity | |
| Part of the start is the end of any identity | |
| Lost in the source, no cause, so the boss gettin off | |
| East, the West, the South, break North | |
| You' ll bite as my chew, as a guard duckin a graveyard | |
| Actin is for actors so you rap but don' t you play hard | |
| I got the Mac to wax and I ain' t tryin to fall back | |
| I rap like I' m the tops, stay real cos I' m all that | |
| It' s my way on a highway, forget your friends | |
| cos I stick that ass like cowboys stickin a contact lens | |
| Let the ho' s go | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: Treach | |
| You say you' re hittin hard, huh, I say you' re hardly hittin | |
| I grip ya quick like a pussy in a kitten mitten | |
| I' m gettin grand and greater, sucker catch ya later | |
| He gettin paid with the fade of a Space Invader | |
| You lookin Moonstruck, fear, start to talkin tough | |
| then sayin ' sorry' like I really give a motherfuck | |
| You' re little late, don' t you think that was the wrong approacha? | |
| A sqwuab by the name of Treach is sure to up and smoke ya | |
| At anytime, anywhere, for any wanted cause | |
| I got a doublebarrelled pump that' s sayin ' Give me yours' | |
| Then I' ma dash in a flash, duck and go for cover | |
| Cos I have one for this robbery and many others | |
| Another gangster, no I' m like an angry ecker | |
| Droppin you and gettin mad if you don' t say ' Thankyer' | |
| The clip clockin killers, and plus my county crew | |
| I gotta clutch, I' ll clean your life, naw not after you | |
| So don' t try ta hide or apologise | |
| Apologies and go meet a French eyes is wise | |
| So if you know what I mean and have a hop block | |
| and never ever seen a day when the money stops | |
| You gotta put up your fists, just to let me know | |
| Ain' t I gotta pump it hard to let the ho' s go | |
| Let the ho' s go | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 4: Treach | |
| Competition on canvas, never have I heard the tongue | |
| Throw a watch at me without it being fuckin hung | |
| Give it a new style, neck him up and keep him learning | |
| Should' ve had projects in the days of Mississippi Burning | |
| I let her see the white sheet hit the concrete | |
| and see that head go off and down from a thousand feet | |
| Cos the brother' s around me don' t even play all that | |
| They see a sheet and a cross, they say ' Oh, gimme that' | |
| Hollow wind in Illtown and don' t you be a ghost | |
| Cos you get your broke or even worst smoked | |
| Now this rhyme is regard' lyrically low cold | |
| But it had to have the flow to let the ho' s go | |
| Let the ho' s go | |
| Chorus extended |