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TOO $HORT - Life Is... Too Short Album Lyrics



TOO $HORT - Life Is... Too Short Lyrics






Life Is... Too Short

I remember how it all began
I used to sing dirty raps to my East Side fans
Back then I knew ya couldn't stop this rap
No M.C. could rock like that
Then the new style came, the bass got deeper
Ya gave up the mike and bought you a beeper
Do ya wanna rap or sell coke?
Brothers like you ain't never been broke
People wanna say it's just my time
Brothers like me had to work for mine
Eight years on the mike and I'm not jokin'
Sir Too Short comin' straight from Oakland
California, home of the rock
Eight woofers in the trunk, beatin' down the block
Short dog, I'm that rappin' man
I said it before and I 'll say it again

Life is too short
Too short
Life is too short

Life is to some people unbearable
Committin' suicide and that's terrible
Was it much too much or nothing' big?
If ya live my life, you'd be fightin' to live
Life is to me my main asset
I be doin' all right and keep it just like that
Chill out at the house and pump that bass
I'm tryin' to get rich as I rock the place
Everybody's got that same old dream
To have big money and fancy things
Drive a brand new Benz, keep your banck right here
Never hear me stutter once because I talk real clear
It's on you, homeboy, watcha gonna do?
You can take my advice and start workin', fool
Or you can close your ears and run your mouth
And one day, homeboy, ya soon find out

Life is too short
Too short
Life is too short

Life is too short, would you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't mess with me
It's been a long time, baby, since I first got down
But I still keep makin' these funky sounds
Cause I don't stop rappin', that's my theme
I make a lot of money, do you know what I mean?
Like this, complicated ya must stay up
Ya asked a simple question boy, don't say "What?"
Ya only live once and ya callin' it hell
Policeman tryin' to take ya to jail
You could give a man time but you don't know
I a matter of time, I'll be runnin' the show
Now another young buck wants to be on top
Makin' big money, slangin' hop
The task force tryin' ta peel your cap
Turn around, homeboy, ya better watch your back

Life is too short
Too short
Life is too short

You can take back all the things you give
But ya can't take back the days you live
Life is to some peole who've been on earth
Livin' every single day for what it's worth
I live my life just how I please
Satisfy one person I know, that's me
Work hard for the things I achieve in life
And never rap fake when I'm on the mike
Cause if a dream is all you got, homeboy
Ya gotta turn that dream into the real McCoy
Not time to waste, just get on that case
Ya can't be down 'cause ya need to taste
A good life livin' like a king on a throne
Gettin' everything ya want and tryin' to have all your own
So life
Don't be stupid though
Cause when ya waste it, you'll know

Life Is
Life Is
All right, that's it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Roger Ball, Malcolm Duncan, Steve Ferrone, Alan Edward Gorrie, Owen Onnie Mcintyre, Todd Anthony Shaw, Hamish Stuart
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group






Rhymes

without a doubt I'm comin' back and if you don't know
call me S. I. R. T. double O
I like to say these rhymes, I do it all the time
I make my own damn beat now all the money is mine
I carry big fat WIVES, I treat my girls like guys
Ask 'em "who do they love?" and they all say TIDE
I'm just an M.C. rapper and nothin' else
I keep rhymin' and I do it by myself
Could you be like me? I rap my none stop rhymes
You will never hear pause when I say these lines
So go on and on, I'm sir Too $hort
just what you've been lookin' for
Like PCP or pure cocaine
DJ universe got you SPRUNG IN THE GAME
You make money, hear my rap from coast to coast
From host to host, I hear the toast:
"Too $hort, love the way you that hit
here's to you, keep rhymin' and boy don't quit"
I say This is how it goes when I say my rap
Most times when I rhyme wouldn't be like that
'cause the way I write rhymes you will comprehend
I'll keep rappin' to the very end
And if you call me fake I'll say so what?
I got you standin' and noddin' like you just shot up
so boy straightin' up I'm still rappin'
comin' at you fresh. Do you know what happened?
I'm sayin' rhymes messin' with your mind
I didn't want your girl 'cause she really ain't fine
I took her to a motel could've been a hotel
It costs me 20 dollars but I did it so well
She had to tell your sister, your sister told you
Now the whole damn town calls me playboy too
I got rhymes, keep 'em comin', they don't stop
I'm lookin' at an empty page about to fill it up
I write only the truth, speak only to you
So if I tell you to say somethin' then you know what to do
I got rhymes, keep 'em comin', they never stop
I live in California, drive a drop top
Roll by the beach, look at the freaks
jump in my car, I do it every week
DJ's who know call me Mister Short
All you wanna be mothers get no child support
I'm Too $hort baby gettin' rich
Get on the mic and then say... Like left to right
right to left girl stealin' your heart is like petty theft
Like 10 to 9, 3 to 2
I'll always be one up on you
Like nightfall makes the sun go down
CRAZY RACK laid the beat changed your life around
From the sea to the mountains the mountains to the sea
all you're gonna do is wanna rock this beat
It's so rough so tough when I talk this stuff
When I get on the mic I can't get enough
I'm the rapper of the season, fresh and decent
All my raps are smooth and decent
I'm that rapper known place to place
for the hardest raps with the hardest bass
You see I rap all the time, that's the point
When I walk in the place I just jam the joint
Singin' old Too $hort's on the microphone
The beat's so fresh can't leave me alone
You see I rap so cool I will not shout
I keep comin' so hard I might knock you out
If you battle with Short that's the chance you take
so you better come fresh and don't be fake
All you weak MC's with your weak drum beats
tellin' all your people you can hang with me
Count 1 to 10 count 10 to 20 and I'll just keep on makin' money
Life is Too $hort I don't stop
I'm hooked on money like a junkie on TOP
I got to make it every day, I won't go broke
Ask me am I rich and I'll say "no"
I'm your homeboy Too $hort back again
puttin' Oakland on the map my rap will never end
I'd like to send a special thanks to the dangerous crew
for believin' in me when they thought I was through
I got rhymes, I keep 'em comin'
I'm on the mic, I won't stop rappin' till it comes out right
and when it's BEATIN' I'll just say "let's roll"
I make another record and buy some gold
I keep rhymin' and I do it by myself
I'm like a one man crew, you see I don't need help
I get the job done so all you fake rappers, MC's rap masters
Give it up leave that rappin' to me
Realizin' young buck you can't rock that beat
I rap on the mic and you'll believe
Nothin' ain't kickin' like the BIG OLD C
It's just one hard rapper spittin' a rap
Not 3 or 4 sucka's or a couple of saps
Like born to Mack I'll cash a check
Walkin' 'round like a fool livin' up to his rep
I'll tell you life ain't long
What you waitin' for?
Thought you wanted to be like Too $hort?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: COLIN FITZROY WOLFE, JOEY COLEMAN, TODD ANTHONY SHAW
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






I Aint Trippin

I was told not long ago
Too $hort don't stop that rap!'
Now everytime I grab the mic
I rock you just like that
8 years ago when I started to rap
I use to sell tapes everywhere
It was me and my homeboy freddy b, yoo
Kickin' it like big players
Everybody loved my raps like 100 dollar bills
I rocked houseparties on 98th
Even rocked in 69 vill
Might find me on the mic at Hot Lips house
Or at the Eastbay Dragonspot
All the 85th boys with their hand in the air
Screamin' Too $hort just don't stop!'
Like Royal Park, like Plymouth Rock
First street and Sunnyside
Like Sobrante Park and Brookefield
East Oakland, yeah, that's right
5 years ago I continued to rock
And if you haven't yet heard my name
It was all in the papers, on the evening news
I was stone cold in the game
Around that time a friend of mine
My homeboy Lionel B hooked me up like this, yoo
On the stage just rockin' the beat
Some say I have a dirty mind
Sometimes that might be true
But these are just some dirty times
I ain't trippin' on you...

I ain't trippin', keep on talkin'
You think i'm smokin' that pipe
I got money, homeboy
I even got some of your future wifes
Well, my story goes like this, man
I smooth went out on wax
Singin' Girl, That's Your Life'
Female Funk' and Shortrapp'
Silky D worked the beat kicked me cold cash
I was ridin' the bus one day
Next day I was on the gas
Everybody loved Too $hort
Rollin' down the strip
Then one day just like that
Homeboy jumped on my tip
You started spreadin' rumors, man
Said you saw me rappin' in jail
No, I never came down to the flatlands
I was chillin' with the homies from the hill
I ain't trippin' but the word went out
Sir Too $hort was through
Can't really say where it all began
So i'ma blamin' it all on you
Everybody use to say
Too $hort don't stop that rap!'
Now everytime you see my face
You say i'm smokin' crack
Oakland, California, I heard it all before
I'm makin' big bank now, rockin' the crowd
I ain't trippin' no more...

Now I'm back on top again
I still don't stop that rap
Everytime I grab the mic
My bankroll's gettin' fat
Freaky Tales' took care of that
You know I'm comin' up
Cause everytime you see my face
I'm rollin' all so tough
When I made the cut...the-he-he Freaky Tales'
I started picturin' this
I named my album Born To Mack'
With the cleaniest raps and beats
Everythin' was kickin' in
Me and Ran kept cashin' checks
Next thing I know there you go
Guess who's on my tip?
You said I just got out of jail
Jumped right back on that pipe
Your sister's boyfriend told you, man
I'm smokin' every night
Then you came to my show
And stood there so damn bold
You said Too $hort, man, you smoking'
And i'm standin' here dreamin' gold
I ain't trippin' no more
Really ain't worth my time
So to squashed it off I kicked on back
And wrote you all the rhyme
Benzes rollin', Beemers jettin'
And Caddies keep on dippin'
You keep on talkin' all that crap
I ain't trippin'...
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TODD ANTHONY SHAW
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Nobody Does It Better

Funky fresh on the microphone

Too $hort
Too $hort

[ VERSE 1 ]
See, I'm fresh like always, I'm comin at you
And you know I won't stop till I'm through
So get on it. now is the time
Too $hort, baby,'s gonna spit that rhyme
At you, cause I'm jammin, so check me
I play the music, even made the beat
Cause I'm the most rappin, most rhymin
Rollin in a drop-top straight high-sidin
On you, boy, I'm poppin the most
I come from Oakland, don't play me close
Cause I'm a player, love to play this game
I get funky out here, pumpin the name
Too $hort, the one and only, I just rock it
Fat bankrolls in my pocket
Call me 'the dirty rapper', I'll say, "Sure"
But I'm a young black entrepreneur
I'm an MC, right? I own a company too
Programmed the drums and made the groove
So when you look in my face you see a wealthy man
I hope it's not hard for you to understand
I'm the businessman, it's not the same
I'm treated like a dope dealer runnin the game
And you wonder why I can't get no peace
I'm makin more than the chief of police
I'm

Too $hort

[ VERSE 2 ]
Now that I've established one fact
I came here to rap
You got a choice to make about me
Can I get busy, are my raps too weak?
Boy, you're too grown, don't say I'm borin
Just because you know I come from Californ-
Ia where many rappers get no respect
I'm at home in a tape deck
I get played and played until it's all played out
Sucker MC's come to my house
They want a contract, get signed up
But like toys they need a good wind-up
Then the other suckers, sayin no names
Rap on the mic and use New York slang
Even though we don't talk like that out here
The point I'm tryina make comes out so clear
You want paper or plastic, Visa or cash?
You want to burn rubber, gonna step on the gas
Now nip, dip, roll the strip
Gonna take your mind on a serious tip
Like always I made the beat funky
I keep your head bouncin like a dopefiend junkie
I got to say it before I break
I never rap fake
Cause I'm

Too $hort

[ VERSE 3 ]
See, I'm fresh like always, no sweat
It's time to jump back in the mix and get
On it, now is the time
Too $hort, baby,'s gonna spit that rhyme
I sell records everyday
And still I get no radio play
I got homies, they love my beat
So you hear me all over the streets
A tape rhymes with bass, I make it deep
The kinda tape you'll always keep
So if you lose it, you're not my mama's son
It ain't free, go and buy another one
Like a costume party on Halloween
MC's pop up on the scene
So you made a record, I saw your poster
I'm still harder than you, boy, look closer
Won't say who's best, I just tell you the truth
You're not makin money, so it couldn't be you
So if that leaves me, Too $hort, baby
I keep it in tune like do-re-mi
With a strict rap tempo, bassline simple
Take that, it's a Too $hort rap
It's on you, boy, I'm poppin the most
I come from Oakland, don't play me close
Cause I'm

Too $hort

[ VERSE 4 ]
Nobody does it better
Tell you, nobody does it better than Too $hort
I take a limousine to the airport
Fly first class, never ever last
Cause a brother like me, I pay cash
Twinkle, twinkle, star in the night
Don't look now, but I'm shinin bright
I know you want to hear my triple x
Foul language, girls and sex
Well, I'm gonna tell you bout livin the life
Stayin in school and not smokin the pipe
It's hard to be a rich man, don't you know?
When you drop out of school and start smokin dope
It goes d-you-m-be
You're lookin for some d?
Then start tweakin, it's goin on
You don't like it? Well, play another song
I got rhymes, you want to hear?
I sing em every day of the year
You try to get it, you think you got it
I hope you like it, cause you sure can't stop it
This rap is so funky fresh
Too $hort, baby, in the flesh
And if you ever say I'm through
So what? I'm makin more than you
Cause I'm

Too $hort
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TODD SHAW
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Oakland

Oakland (Oh-oh-oh-Oakland) Oaktown (Oh-oh-oh-Oaktown)
Oakland (Oakland, Oakland) Get on down (Oh-oh-Oaktown)

Straight from the West, Oakland is the best
Baby it's so fresh (Oakland)
It's called the Big Bad O, city of players on the go
You gotta have Trues and Vogues (Oakland)
Baby, that's my town, when all the tops come down
You'll hear my funky sound (Oh-oh-oh-Oaktown)
O-A-K-L-A-N-D, that city was made for me
Just rocking to the beat (Oakland)
Drop tops rolling down the strip, baby it's the tip
Don't stop dipping til I quit (Oaktown)
Trues and Vogues on my car, baby I'm a star
I'm playing at Player's Park (Oakland)
Everybody on the floor, do you really want some more?
We'll get funky like Playboy $hort (Oh-oh-oh-Oaktown)

Oakland (Oakland) Oaktown (Oh-Oaktown)
Oakland (Oakland) Just get on down

Oh-oh-oh-oak, oak-oak-oak-Oaktown

Westside coming through, Northside coming to it, too
East Oakland it's for you (Oakland)
Californ-I-A, can you hear me say
Oakland is here to stay (Oakland)

Oakland (Oh-oh-oh-Oakland) Oaktown (Oh-oh-oh-Oaktown)
Oakland (Oh-oh-oh-Oakland) Just get on down (Oaktown)

Straight from the West, Oakland is the best
Baby it's so fresh (Oakland)

Oakland (Oh-oh-oh-Oakland) Oakland (Get on down)

Straight from the West, Oakland is the best
Baby it's so fresh (Oakland)
Drop tops roll down the strip, baby that's the tip
Don't stop dipping til I quit (Oakland)
Trues and Vogues on my car, baby I'm a star
I'm playing at Player's Park (Oakland)

Oakland (Oh-oh-oh-Oakland) Oakland, get down

Oakland, Oaktown, Oakland, Oh-oh-oh-Oaktown
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALFRED EATON, TODD SHAW, TOO SHORT
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Dont Fight The Feelin

[Too $hort:]

Say hoe
yeah you
Can I ask you a question
You like to f*ck?
Oh, you don't want me to talk to you like that
Will you like to make love?

I saw you walking down the street, and I had to stop
Turn up the radio and drop the top
I see you look so good, and your so fine
Young tender, would you be mine
I get you in my car, drive you to my house
Cuz I'm a mack, I cold turn you out
I wont ask, and I sure won't beg
Reach right over and rub your leg
I let my hand slide between your miniskirt
Slip a finger in your panties, straight go to work
What time is it, don't watch the clock
Lay back baby doll and I'll rock the cock
Funky Fresh I am, and I always can, Freak Nasty
I'm the man
I take you out to the finest resturant
Buy you any damn thing that you want
You want flowers, I'll buy your ass a rose
But later on you're coming off with them panyhose
You want gold, girl whats next
It's me and you, doing the sex
So now you know I'm just a freak
Give it up baby, I can't wait two weeks
I want it all, Don't say I won't
Get it girl, now I'm telling you don't

[girls voice]

Nigga please, you provoke no feeling
You must of forgot, the girls of whom you're dealing
We haven't the urge, to get busy
Like those dizy lizys, who used to dance for you, your through
I can't put it more blunt, your vocab is restricted
You're addicted, to the words you inflicted
Time after time, line after line
Talking bout the bitches that are on your mind
Do they call you $hort because of your height or your weight?
Diss me boy, I'll hang your balls from a cliff
Wrapped around a slinky, your a dinky
It's an easy task, to the corner cause the curb didn't want your ass
Your name is yuck mouth, you don't brush
Gotta cover your mouth like this
They call you yuck mouth
You refuse to brush, no sweetheart you can keep that kiss
Your a freak with no tale
You have no ass, class,you can't pass, your simply trash
Your a typical nigga, the kind you don't take home
[????] tights and Barbie from the dangerous zone
Like a short dogg that carries fleas
You make my ass itch, twitch, don't you wish you could scratch it
And grab it like you want it
The name fits cause your all up on it...

[Too $hort]

Get mad if you want, I won't front
When it's time to hump, won't be no punk
Roll your ass over and tap the butt
Too $hort baby all in them guts
I'm not your ABC, from the alphabet
Every letter I'll write'll get your pussy wet
It's just a freaky note, from me to you
At the bottom I signed it Playboy II
I'm a player, bitch, I thought you knew
Like every other nigga in my crew
I bump hoes, now it's your turn
Tell me young tender when will you learn
I cold mack like pimps you know
Won't sell you dope or sell you blow
Just your average everyday straight bump up bitch
My gold rings come from spitz
Look baby, You know what I want
Your acting like it's that time of the month
Are you bleeding, can't think about sex
Irritated by your Kotex
We don't need to kiss, we don't have to f*ck
I'll pull out my dick bitch, you can suck
Now here, don't say I won't
Get it girl, now I'm telling you don't...

[Girls Voice]

Punk I'm not a tease, I'm not a skeezer
And most definately, not a dick pleaser
You dreaming, and scheaming, and fiending for my lust
You don't have enough, for you I feel disgust
Wait, small thing I hate
For goodness sakes, if I wanted someone small I would masturbate
I'm not talking 'bout your height, weight, or what you dream
When I say too short, you know what I mean
You see, I need man, not a boy to approach me
Your lame game, really insults me
Your name is Too $hort, or shall I say too skinny
If size were money honey, you wouldn't have a penny
Little boy, your not a player
I'm your savior
To try to get at me shows your bodacious behavior
I have to sit on my feet to come down to your level
Your mother should have hung you, from her umbilical cord
If she would have known your mission
Okay little boy, here's a proposition
You wanna bit of danger, Step you to my zone
You call yourself a dogg, thatz how I'll send you home
With your tail between your legs, screeching and whining
Jealous of you got some, nigga please your lying
Cause I fight the feeling, that would have to be one
And mathmatically, me plus you equals none...

[Rappin 4 Tay]

I am the rapper that they call 4 tay
I'm gon tell you like my homie Short Dogg would say
Hoes in the world, trying to play it sweet
Knowing damn well that they wanna freak
Some do this for maybe a week
And then it's cool to get up under the sheets
Trying to work that thang, but she said no
That's about as far as it's going to go
So I toss and turn, to make it loose
Finally she feels the act right juice
Some of you hoes say, oh that's nasty
Back of your coat say sweet and sassy
24 deep, that's how you sleep
Undercover freak every day of the week
You see some of you freaks just need to quit it
Playing that role like you ain't with it
The rest of you freaks just won't admit it
Especially when you know just who can get it
Ain't body tripping cuz I know I'm right
You could be black or you could be white
For a black girl it really don't take too long
but a white girl's always tryin to turn ya on
With a little squeze, but it's just a tease
Give her some time, she'll be on her knees
Then I'll pick her up, so I can work the butt
Baby, I just wanna try to bust a nut
But don't get me wrong, cause you started it all
coming to my house in a camisole
But when it's time for me to shove
Then you front on all that love
First you said that I deserve it
Now you fight, don't want to serve it
Gave it some time, so make up your mind
Don't fight the feeling, it's time to unwind
You was talking 'bout you gunna give my some
But I'm Rappin 4 Tay it don't make me numb...

[Too $hort]

Yeah man, the little hoes got ill
So now it's time to get way to real
I know they never have some real dick
They need to quit talking that childish shit
You wanna rank hoe
Go get your bank hoe
My little dick'll have you screaming though
Because when it comes to sex, you don't know what's up
Your still playing that finger f*ck
See I'm a grown man
I bust some young cock out
I like big butts, not big mouths
I know some little girls'll break you down in bed
Pull your drawers down, give you some head
But little girl, you wanna have some fun
You better go to magic mountain cuz your way too young
So at this point, I can't really say shit
Ain't dropping no lines, I'll just call you a bitch...Beyotch!!!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TODD ANTHONY SHAW
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






CussWords

So you motherf*ckers thought I was gonna change my style?
- So what are you saying Todd?

To all you bitches, hoes, and all that shit
Here's another rap that I'm ready to spit
It goes like this, my name is $hort
I'm tearin shit up like never before
Pimp slaps, makin snaps
Cold cash money and Too $hort raps
Oakland, California that's where I'm from
The city where the boys say you don't want none
But if you do, I'm gonna tell you this
Trues and vogues ain't really shit
Wanna roll so hard, all of the time
You and that bitch playin Too $hort rhymes
If you aks me, what it's all about, I'll say it's about that money
But if you aks me, could you have some, I'll say it doesn't concern me
Ronald Reagan came up to me and said, "Do you have the answer
To the United States economy and a cure for cancer?"
I said, what are you doin in the White House if you're not sellin cocaine?
Ask your wife, Nancy Reagan, I know she'll spit that game.
Like one night, she came to my house, and gave me a blow job
She licked my dick, up and down, like it was corn on the cob
What is life? It is Too $hort
I play the bitches like it's a sport
Yea, I'll play the bitches just like y'all
Like Dr. J played basketball
You can call me Too, don't say it twice
You'll get me real mad and I'll f*ck your wife
You see I'm not proper, I'm rarely polite
Too $hort, Too $hort, don't say it tonight, beeatch
It started on a bright morning in 1987
I was in my drop-to Caddy y'all
Gettin sucked by a bitch named Helen
Nasty bitches, around the world, I wrote this rhyme for you
You might not like my rap, but I'm tellin you bitch it's true
So much death in the Oakland streets
Am I gonna live till next week?
Will I get shot by a dope fiend,
Tryin to get high, tryin to steal my ring
I really can't say, cause I don't know why
People out here droppin dead like flies
I used to see a home boy givin five
Now I say, "Man, you still alive?"
Cold as hell, the town I'm from
Won't last too long when you're fakin the funk
I'm the master rapper, so unique
Clap my hand when I want my freak
You can't deny it, you know I'm right
I turn any rapper out when I'm on the mic
And I won't kick back, or relax
Till he knows I'm the best at the MC rap
Till he knows Too $hort, set the track
They got him caught up in my serious cap
Motherf*cker can't spit straight game on the mic
Cause he's worse than a fag or a Frisco dike
He's a sucker MC, I call him punk
You try to spit that rap, you can scratch that junk
You little punk-ass boy, wouldn't listen to me
Think I'm fakin but I'm takin all you sucker MC's
To the end of the world and push you over
Good luck couldn't find you in a four leaf clover
If I ever said a rap, tryin to cap on you,
I wouldn't even sweat it cause you'll be through
Lookin so far up, you might fall down
Gettin clowned by the hound from east Oaktown
And the look in your face when you're lickin that tooth
Could make a grown man die, laughin at you
Cause you're a, no rappin, no rhymin
Played out fake ass simple simon
I never understood one word you said
But you're swearin up and down that you're killin em dead
There's only one thing, I wanted to know
Sucker motherf*cker, where's the joke?
I'm the player of players, just call me Pop
My name is Too $hort, no I don't stop
I just don't stop mackin, don't stop cappin
Don't stop rappin now you see what happens
Your mind is gone, your crew just cut
Sucker MC I'll tell you what
Your rhymes are weak, your rap the same
And when it comes to game, you are lame
Never even heard of Too $hort baby
Hit Oakland in 1980
Singin mo raps than a rap could rhyme
Tellin sucker MC's don't waste my time
There's a girl I know her name is Betty
Straight to the head just rock it steady
She's so freaky she'll juice you up
All the home boys just can't get enough
She's a Ph.D., don't even stop
In the back like that goin (top, top, top)
I won't say white girl, won't say she's black
She's the kind of girl that make your knees go crack
Feel the beat, rock with me
Let me tell you what I be
I'm a MC rapper, a MC rapper
A big bank roller and a cold, cold capper
Hey baby, I got this rhyme
It's not gonna stop till the end of time
Like rock and roll I'll play that song
To the beat all day and all night long
So liten up, to what I'm sayin
I'm a Oaktown mack, bitch I ain't playin
To all the home boys doin time in the pen
Gonna rock this beat for you once again
If you can't get out and you're mad as hell
Say beeatch, now make it sound for real
I'ma tear shit up, if I get the chance
I could give a f*ck less if you're hole don't dance
See I'm a big mack now, I'm so great
I was born and raised in the Golden State
Call me T.O.O., if you say $hort
I'ma rap my ass off till you give me some more
Big bank, now just make me rich
Bitch bitch bitch bitch make me rich
Check out my style, baby I don't quit
I heard this freak say, "That's the shit,
He took the cake, f*cked the rake
Too $hort baby damn sure ain't fake."
But the sucker MC's are screamin loud
Sayin Sir Too $hort, shut your mouth
How can you talk about me, and call me weak
When your father smokes coke and you mother's a freak
So I keep on rappin, if nothin else
Keep your jealous thoughts to yourself
Bitch and Bitch, he's a MC right
Ain't sayin nothin but he's holdin the mic
F*ck with me, and boy you're doomed
I send a trick with a hoe to the motel room
Cause I'm the coldest MC on a microphone
Like a .357 pointed at your dome
I got cap for cap, you never heard
So fresh again with cusswords
Motherf*ckin shit, f*ckin with me
F*ck a skank bitch and a sucker MC
Cusswords, just let em know
Motherf*ckin shit, god damn ass hoe
Cusswords, just don't quit
Motherf*ck you damn shithead bitch
It's Too $hort, on the mic, and it don't stop
and it don't stop, and it won't stop, beeatch
Check out my style
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






City Of Dope

City of Dope, I call it Oak
Can't be broke, selling coke
Fat ropes, shattered hopes
Fresh cars and all that dope
Baseheads keep the trade alive
Nobody know about a 9 to 5
Everybody's just trying to survive
You need a gun, can't use those knives
You got a bullet? Well just pull it
And if you trip, get pistol-whipped
By a psychomaniac sick in his head
Wanna be a gangster, now he's dead
His brother took over, ain't no sweat
Bought a new drop-top white Corvette
Now he's buying keys, making G's
And all the girls say "Won't you please
Take me" In the City of Dope

See I'm hard as hell, no ghetto tale
You play a gun, but the game is real
You want to stop my money, how?
You keep smoking, I'm selling out
It's called the City of Dope, might be your town
Get a piece of the rock, turn your life around
So cool, don't even trip
You got the sack, get on the tip
A resident in the City of Dope
And every day I'm selling coke
I'm never broke, I don't smoke
I sold a rock and made you have a stroke
Pay cold cash you know, I won't need Bruno
I'll hit you with my gat and then I won't come back
Like ym peanut butter top with the candy paint
All the high school tenders drop down and faint
In the City of Dope

Life in a coke town, heard it before
Think it's all been said, but it's so much more
It's like midnight, slanging rock
Task force just hit the block
Time to make a move, the spot got hot
You chase a cop, homeboy why not?
She lit the match and light the crack
Ain't giving no bitches no kind of slack
Or if you're playing the game, you're thinking the same
Goddamn that rock cocaine
I've seen a lot of my friends go off that pipe
And every night smoke coke that's white
So when you get up, man, there you go
You and that pipe just dogging the hoes
In the City of Dope, and the story goes
Want to be like free, breaking millions of loaves
In the City of Dope, where the color is gold
On your neck, and your fingers, and your brand new Rolls
Enough said, but my rap won't end
It's on a one way trip to San Quinten
Like you my friend, ain't nothing new
You want to grind that boat til it's way past two
You say it's not easy, that you're so hard
Sporting gold tone Z's, not credit cards
Got clout turn 'em out, you got bitches
You say you're not fake, but I'm telling you this is
The City of Dope, might be your world
Get a beeper homeboy and just sell that girl
I'm from the town called "The City of Dope"
It couldn't be saved by John the Pope
So go on, live your life of crime
The beat'll keep beating while I say my rhyme
In the City of Dope

Smoking weed, rolling 'em fat
You wonder where the boy learned to act like that
Hey was raised in the ghetto and felt the need
To roll a fat joint and smoke that weed
But the tale goes on and years went by
Another drug came and the boy got high
Ever since that day, he just wasn't the same
Where I come from, we call it "rock cocaine"
Where you come from, you might call it "crack"
But wherever he went, you see he never came back
I tried to tell the motherf*cker, but he don't know
I say to coke, "Pimp that ho"
I don't live in a mansion but I drive a Benz
Cut to the turf and collect my ends
Say "Look here freak, kick me down
I don't have time to talk right now"
Got to go to, my next hoe
And get kicked down, a little more
Left right left, down the street
Getting paid freak by freak
There you see me, there you don't
You wonder will I, or won't
Is it yes, is it no?
But does it really matter you freaky hoe?
In the City of Dope
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: A EATON, T SHAW
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Pimp the Ho

Pimp the ho

Pimp that ho

It's like Too $hort raps been around a while
I rocked to the beat and got my own style
I'm from the O city, and I said it before
I was born to mack, call me Playboy $hort
You want to get freaky? Look at the time
We could do the nasty, but it's almost nine
My show starts at ten, I got's to go
Like the mack said, homie, pimp the ho
Check it out everybody, if you got two ears
Turn your radio up, Short Gog is here
If the bass ain't kickin', pick up the phone
Dial 911, tell em, turn it on
Bumped a cute young tender in a tight red dress
She had a soft booty, and a real big chest
She said, "I love you", said it again
At the motel freaked her and her friends
Like a Too $hort rap, and everybody knows
Like the Mack said, homie, pimp the hoes
Ain't no need in playin' games, none at all
Fakin' like a giant when you're just too small
No need to rush, take your time
To adjust to the changes in my rhyme
To you rappers, tonight's your night
You all jump straight up on your mic
Screamin' "I'm the best", but let me see
I make a lotta money, could that be me?
He said, "Hell no, I'm the king of the rap"
Looked me in my eyes, said, "Deal with that"
I said, "Hold on, buddy, don't talk that junk
You drank two 40s, now you must be drunk"
He said, "Let's battle", I said "Go"
Like the Mack said, homie, I pimped the ho
All hail the king, go straight to hell
If your girlfriend's freakin on a freaky tale
Better play your rap and take mine off
Before the bitch gets wet and you're still soft
No need to rush, take your time
To adjust to the changes in my rhyme
I was on the turf, cold chillin' out
When a sucker MC got hit in the mouth
Tryin' to find out if he can hang with me
The boy got hooked on the Dope Fiend Beat
I said, "Bitch, what are you smokin'?"
It ain't funny, cool, I ain't jokin'
You never shoulda said I was fakin' the place
You wouldn'ta got socked straight in your face
I'm the coldest MC on a microphone
Now the sucker MC's just leave me alone
They might suck on yours, but they can't get mine
Like the Mack said, homie, pimp all the time
I'm not talkin bout hookers in mini-skirts
When you pimp like me, put your mind to work
It's like 24 hoes, better known as tracks
When I grab that mic I spit these raps
I start workin' the hoes, and it just don't stop
It's goin' on till the panties drop
I'm Sir Too $hort, like I said
Bitch can't lick, don't give me head
Had a fresh young tender, won't say her name
It's the same old story, ran the same old game
She can blow more head than a well blows water
The girl won't stop when she get started
Like the freak you married, I had to get with her
Ain't no doubt, Short Dog would get her
I'm a cold player, I can't lie
They call me Playboy $hort, and I told you why
I'm a mack, so get back
I put my tape in the deck in my Cadillac
And as my ride goes on definitely
I speak each word loud as can be
I'm the T-double o, and like I said
If your girlfriend's freakin', I accept all head
Scream out the combination, and I open the lock
Plug in the mic jack, and then rock that cock
Back to back like the Oakland Raiders
In and out like your crossfaders
Makin' people dance all over the floor
Lovin' that rapper named Sir Too $hort
You got my bank, little girl, no time to act silly
I'm dynamite, baby, and my name ain't Willy
Cold as hell, hard to stop
I spit these raps and rock yo block
Hit the city talkin' bout, it's goin' on
And the next thing you know, the whole nation's gone
It's Too $hort on the mic
And I'm spittin' mo' raps than any rapper you like
So all you suckers-worth rappers, you hate my beat
All I gotta say is, don't f*ck with me
My game is tight, my bank is made
You can hate big $hort, but I still get paid
You say, "I can't", I say you can
Show respect, little boy, when you deal with a man
I saw you laughin when you came in the place
Punk, I start laughin when I spit in your face
See I know how I feel, I should be shut at dawn
But I'm a true MC, I keep rockin on
I won't say I'm best, won't declare I'm bad
I'm just a rappin' motherf*cker with a hard-ass rap
Too $hort cold comin' up
Say a rap, homeoby, get the mic out your butt
Be a man if you can, cause it might get worse
You be walkin' round town with a wig and a purse
No tellin' what's next, I don't know
Like the Mack said, homie, pimp the ho

(I'll be good to you
You'll be good to me
Anything you want
Or anything you need
I got my eye on you
And I'm into you
I'll give you all my dough
You just pimp that ho)

I'm never draggin' when I'm rhymin', cause I make a lotta money
I jump in my car, drop it if it's sunny
Doggin' the freaks, and all that shit
Long haired hoes with real big tits
I'm a Eastside player oh yes, I am
Grab the microphone and start makin grands
I take a freak to her room, not a hotel trick
I cold chill out at the Motel Six
I'm ridin' in the car, and I can't be found
I'm the hardest motherf*cker rappin' from this town
My name is Sir Too $hort, and if you say 'so what?'
I look you in your eye, and wouldn't give a f*ck
I live a California lifestyle, ain't no trip
8 years on the mike, and ain't faked it yet
So when you see me on stage, I won't blow you a kiss
I put my finger in the air and tell you just like this
Say bitch

Pimp the ho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TODD SHAW, TOO SHORT
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Outro

Yeah that's right baby
You rolling to the sounds of Too $hort
Album #11 (Just Can't Stay Away)
You knew I couldn't stay away (can't stay away)
Dedicated to the funk baby
That's how we do this, we been doing this
So I made a new album
Fresh out of retirement
I can't stay away, I'm ready to ride again
I could do it for the money, I'd rather do it for the fans
Break out my old caddy, I'd knew he'd understand
See I don't stop rapping, so how could I retire
I had to re negotate, Cause the stakes were getting higher
Lawsuits and jail, partnerships fail
Didn't have a drivers license, so I was always making bail
Three years ago I told Jive: get my scrill
They gave a nigga millions with the same shit deal
You know I gotta live so I might as well learn
I'd be the first motherf*cker to tell you I got burned
So I retired, started all over again
I put the game down like an Oakland pimp (Oakland pimp)
And now I get payed like the NBA
First class on that ass,every game we play
F*ck your attitude bitch, you ain't hurting me
I'm felling to cool, I'm rolling three times Barkley
You can get your ass out and walk home
I'll find another young broad and get my f*ck on
So please don't trip, in my Cadillac bitch
Maybe some other time cause I ain't having that shit
Right now I'm about to lean to the left
Wipe that frown off your face bitch I mean what I said
I'm bout to bump this beat, I'm wasting time talking
Keep f*cking with me and they goin' find their ass walking
I'm to the next level, but I keep on rapping
This shit I be doing just ain't suppose to happen
What you know about the motherf*cking east side connection
Hitting backstreets in my motherf*cking oldschool flexing
Niggas on the eastside we ain't no punks
Made em get four way stop signs and speedbumps
Always highspeed chasing everyday and night
They call me $ir Too $hort bitch you better say it right
I had to look past rap music and R&B
I be a leader and watch this niggas follow me
I could be 40, album 15 it wouldn't matter
I probably got way more rhymes then all you rappers
I know i got more songs then you ever made
I stayed on the charts and I stayed paid
So don't come around me bragging bout the shit you achieved
Cause I know exactly what you and me need
To be in two different places all the time
I ain't concerned with yours so stay the f*ck up out of mine
I own all my shit so you can't destroy it or enjoy it
Unless I say so and motherf*ckers better know it
If you living really good it ain't nothin' but fate
I love to see a new rapper doing something great
When I hear a funky base line I always pay attention
I spit these pimp ass rhymes cause hoes love the way
I mention pimp shit all the time
18 years of making music, I bring square bitches to my house
And watch her straight get loose wit it
Too $hort baby can't never stop funking
I've been doing this for years and I got hella songs that bumping
All you hang-around-a-long-time, one-hit-havin'
Got no love for this rap music, you need to stop rapping
I thought you was jealous of my bitches and cars
But you just mad that your shit ain't hitting like ours
I'm so real about these beats, I tell all my freaks
At the studio, bitch don't bother me
Its all about the funk, live bass
Trinity, MPC, JV-2080, dump some chords with the vintage keys
You hear what I'm saying, learn from my example
Break out the instruments and stay away from the samples
Get your publishing for everything you write
Instead of selling it keep it for the rest of your life
So just take my advice and don't quit
Cause if you do, you won't get shit, biatch
$hort Dawg on the motherf*cking microphone spitting that real game
Album # 11, Just can't stay away
Its on, Once again its on
Too $hort records, in Platinum we trust, believe that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: GEORGE CLINTON, WILLIAM BOOTSY COLLINS
Copyright: Lyrics © Word Collections Publishing, Peermusic Publishing






Back to: TOO $HORT


Life Is... Too Short (stylized as Life Is... Too $hort) is the fifth studio album by American rapper Too Short. It was released in 1988 via Dangerous Music and re-released in 1989 through Jive Records. It appeared as a Dangerous Music/RCA Records release until Jive Records logos appeared on the release on October 25, 1990, after it became successful.

It is currently his highest-selling album to date, being certified double platinum by the RIAA for sales of over 2 million copies.
Performed By: TOO $HORT
Genre(s): Hip hop, hardcore rap
Producer(s): Too Short, R. Austin, T. Bohanon, Al Eaton
Length: 54:52
Released: December 27th, 1988
Year: 1988

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