Life Is 2009 - Lyrics - Underground Kingz - Ugk

Title: Life Is 2009
Album: Underground Kingz
Artist: Ugk
Composer(s): Chad Butler, Bernard Freeman, Randy Jefferson, Brad Jordan, Todd Shaw

Lyric:
Yeah, see I remember, how it all began
I used to slang dirty raps to my P.A. fans
And back then, I knew you couldn't stop this flow
No other MC around can go like I go

I brought the new style in and the bass it got crunker
I bought me a slab and now I'm a pop trunker
Do I wanna rap or swang on 4's?
Your brother's comin' down slammin' Cadillac do's

People tellin' me that it's just my time
They know it's UGK for life and I get down for mine
14 on the mic and you never seen me play
Big, big chain and comin' straight up outta P.A.

Quote out the Texas, the land of the trill
And fuck your diamonds man these boys done put a gun to your grill
It's Bun Beeda, you know that I be reppin', Mayne
See we done said it befo', but we gon' say it again

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

I've been crushin' these niggaz, me and Bun B
Been a legend since 1993
Gimme thirty thousand and I'll serve ya some heat
I'll write your rhymes, sang the hook and I'll make ya a beat

I used to dream about this shit, now my money is legit
Ain't no mo' ridin' up that ten with that shit tryin' to win
I let the young whippersnapper take all the risks
They'll serve a nigga dope and now it's all on a disk

Keep a bad yella bitch and a thick young brown
Top dropped down when I'm ridin' through the town
Y'all call 'em trues', we call 'em Vogues
They call 'em shorties, we call 'em hoes

Y'all niggaz behind still playin' wit'cha nose
I got two matchin' Bentleys just bought me a Rolls
My momma drive a BM and my girl got a Benz
Watchin' life through my rear view I see haters in my lens

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Life is too short, that's what I always say
We wasn't homies last week so don't call me today
I ain't got nuttin' for you, can't loan you shit
Don't you hate when broke niggaz be on yo' dick?

I can make a lot of money, I know I can
But the mo' I make, the mo' I spend
Lot of cash in my pockets just to show my friends
I can put it in the bank to buy fo' mo' rims

For my fo' do' Benz, with the royal blue paint
Sometimes you wanna quit, but you know you can't
You gotta keep hustlin' or you lose it all
If you choose to ball you pay your dues and fall

I said fuck bein' broke, if I gotta sell coke
I'ma rock the shit up and raise hell with my folks
I'll be posted on the block, at night I gotta get mine
I'll pimp hoes and I do white collar crimes

'Cause life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Now life is to some people unbearable
They tellin' on they homeboys and that's terrible
Was it way too much time or nothin' big?
'Cause if you tell on us, we'll be splittin' your wig

Now my freedom is to me my main asset
So I'ma keep it 100 and give like I get
Chill at the Ponderosa and smoke that good
I'm tryin' to get rich while I rep for the hood

See everybody's got that same old dream
Of big cars, bad bitches and a mountain of cream
Drive a brand new Bentley, Benzo or a Beem
But ain't none of that worth tellin' on yo' team

It's on you homeboy, so what'chu gon' do
You need to take my advice and stop snitchin' fool
Or you can close yo' ears and run yo' mouth
But when they catch you homeboy you'll soon find out

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

Life is, Too $hort don't you agree?
While I'm livin' my life, don't fuck with me
Life is, Too $hort, whippin' the slab
Comin' down blowin' sweets and hurtin' hoes on the ave

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Life Is Too $Hort - Lyrics - Too $Hort

Title: Life Is Too $Hort
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Roger Ball, Malcolm Duncan, Stephen Ferrone, Alan Gorrie, Owen Mcintyre, Todd Shaw, Hamish Stuart

Lyric:
I remember how it all began
I used to sing dirty raps to my East side fans
Back then I knew you couldn't stop this rap
No M.C. could rock like that

Then the new style came, the bass got deeper
You gave up the mike and bought you a beeper
Do you 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, too short

Life is to some people is unbearable
Committin' suicide and that's terrible
Was it much too much or nothing' big?
If you 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 bank right here
Never hear me stutter once 'cause 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, you soon find out

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, 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 you must stay up
You asked a simple question boy, don't say, "What?"

You only live once and you callin' it hell
Policeman tryin' to take you to jail
You could give a man time but you don't know
In 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' to peel your cap
Turn around, homeboy, you better watch your back

Life is too short
Life is

You can take back all the things you give
But you can't take back the days you live
Life is to some people 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
You gotta turn that dream into the real McCoy
No time to waste, just get on that case
You can't be down 'cause you need to taste

A good life livin' like a king on a throne
Gettin' everything you want and tryin' to have all your own
So life, don't be stupid though
'Cause when you waste it, you'll know

Life is, life is
All right, that's it

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Life Is..Too Short - Lyrics - Life Is... Too Short - Too $Hort

Title: Life Is..Too Short
Album: Life Is... Too Short
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Roger Ball, Malcolm Duncan, Stephen Ferrone, Alan Gorrie, Owen Mcintyre, Todd Shaw, Hamish Stuart

Lyric:
I remember how it all began
I used to sing dirty raps to my East side fans
Back then I knew you couldn't stop this rap
No M.C. could rock like that

Then the new style came, the bass got deeper
You gave up the mike and bought you a beeper
Do you 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, too short

Life is to some people is unbearable
Committin' suicide and that's terrible
Was it much too much or nothing' big?
If you 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 bank right here
Never hear me stutter once 'cause 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, you soon find out

Life is too short, too short
Life is too short, 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 you must stay up
You asked a simple question boy, don't say, "What?"

You only live once and you callin' it hell
Policeman tryin' to take you to jail
You could give a man time but you don't know
In 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' to peel your cap
Turn around, homeboy, you better watch your back

Life is too short
Life is

You can take back all the things you give
But you can't take back the days you live
Life is to some people 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
You gotta turn that dream into the real McCoy
No time to waste, just get on that case
You can't be down 'cause you need to taste

A good life livin' like a king on a throne
Gettin' everything you want and tryin' to have all your own
So life, don't be stupid though
'Cause when you waste it, you'll know

Life is, life is
All right, that's it

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19cfb61582c9d46e1a87661e69cb6a02

Playboy Short - Lyrics - Get In Where You Fit In - Too $Hort

Title: Playboy Short
Album: Get In Where You Fit In
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): George Jr Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Todd Shaw, Phelps Collins, Ant Banks

Lyric:
Aight, bitch, funky motherfucking fresh
Some of that '93 old school shit, hoe

Well, I'm Too $hort baby, hear what I say
I never do work but I always play
'Cause the game is life and I play the game
So you never talk down on a player's name
When I grab my mic, I'm the one man crew
Talking 'bout me, wouldn't think about you
When you heard Too $hort came to town
You never would've thought I'd be looking down

On who, on you, 'cause I'm so big
Me and my money is all I dig
I'm from the Dangerous Crew, we ain't no punk
We take 24 tracks, drop the funk on your ass

Beating like a dope fiend
Back seat riding in a Limosine
Telling that freak all about me
The creater of greater, sucker MC's
Chilling out in the Oaktown singing a rap
No MC could rock like that
Now I say it like bitches say
No MC could rock my way

When I rap it's always great
Wouldn't care if it was live or on a tape
It's me, $hort, the one and only
Spitting that rap to all my homies
You know about you, you know I'm a star
When I rap too good I might take it too far
Had the whole damn crowd going wild
'Cause I don't stop rapping, that's my style

Too $hort baby from East Oakland
I got more hoes than I can count on my hand
You got women, well, I got more
You don't know, shit, I'm Playboy $hort
They call me, "Playboy $hort" known everywhere
Had a life long dream to be a player
Way too cold at a younger age
It was everyday, just make that page

Still playing the same, still young at the game
Never talk down on a player's name
'Cause I'm big time, paid all my dues
I'm rich and famous and way too cool
People can't fuck with the way I'm rhyming
They say it's too slow but it bought these diamonds
Too $hort baby is the name I use
A '93 Lexus is what I cruise

Clean from the start, I thought I was it
I was Cadillac Slick in the dust I kick
But the Caddy got parked 'cause I'm riding new
Eastside bitch, so I'm siding, fool
Money everywhere, all over the floor
At the bank I'm known as, "Mr. $hort"
At the house I be chilling, getting some head
Writing raps all day, even in bed

And them groupie-ass bitches love this shit
The funk rap master, made to fit
Just her, I'm all in them guts
Homeboy can't fuck so I hooked it up
But young women like you with your big round butts
Blind girls driving down the street called, "Love"
Chasing that man, who really can't stand
Seeing your face so now you ran

And you don't realize what you'll soon see
The way making love is supposed to be
With a player known as Playboy Too
Rock a mic and a freak and you'll both be through
Players play women who like to get played
Bitched like you just trying to get laid
But I like money and I get paid
I do my duty and say, "Good day"

I didn't want to make love, I'm not that fast
What the hell, she's a freak, she even asked
So let's go to my room after the show
Treat me like a pimp and pay me hoe
You can suck my dick and I might sing
Just love Too $hort, I'm everything
So cool, my name is Too
Call it how you want but I won't call you

Ring my phone and you might see
Ringing my phone just won't get me
'Cause I'm hard to find but I get mine
And if I was looking for you, I wouldn't be in line
I'd be right on time in the right place
Too $hort baby all in your face
Talking bout mine and what I want
Fucking MC's with the dangerous funk

I'm on my way to the top
So much rapping I'll never stop
And all that fame, you might claim
Couldn't stand up by my rap name
You might be good, I don't care
I've been rapping like this 13 long years
I got more respect then you'll ever get
'Cause I don't stop rapping and you know that shit

Sucker MC's with your record deal
Most tapes out now couldn't be real
'Cause your tracks ain't shit, dreaming 'bout hits
But you'll find out Too $hort don't quit
When I grab my mic I'm the one man crew
Talking' bout me, wouldn't think about you
When you heard Too $hort came to town
You never would've thought I'd be

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Don'T Fight The Feelin' - Lyrics - Life Is... Too Short - Too $Hort

Title: Don'T Fight The Feelin'
Album: Life Is... Too Short
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): J Brown, A Forte, J Goins, Kevin Mccord, Todd Anthony Shaw

Lyric:
Say hoe, yeah you
Can I ask you a question
You like to fuck?
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 restaurant
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 pantyhose
You want gold, girl what's 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

Nigga please, you provoke no feeling
You must've 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 Short 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

You're a freak with no tale
You have no ass, class, you can't pass, your simply trash
You're a typical nigga, the kind you don't take home
[Incomprehensible] 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

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
You're 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 fuck
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

Punk, I'm not a tease, I'm not a skeezer
And most definitely not a dick pleaser
You dreaming and scheming 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 Short or shall I say 'Too Skinny'
If size were money honey, you wouldn't have a penny

Little boy, you're 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 you're lying
Cause I fight the feeling, that would have to be one
And mathematically, me plus you equals none

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 nobody 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

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
You're still playing that finger fuck

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

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Don'T Stop Rappin' - Lyrics - Can't Stay Away - Too $Hort

Title: Don'T Stop Rappin'
Album: Can't Stay Away
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Marlon Goodwin, Tristan Jones, Todd Shaw, Premro Smith

Lyric:
Don't stop, don't stop that rap
Too Short, and I don't stop rappin'

Just don't stop
Too Short, I don't stop rappin'
Don't stop that rap

Well I'm Sir Too Short, the true MC
Fresh again with the brand new beat
The big bank roller, I know what's happening
I get on the mic and I don't stop rappin'

Don't stop, don't stop that rap
Too Short, I don't stop rappin'

My rap don't stop, you know it can't
I get on the mic and I make big bank
Unlike some rappers that I know
Trying to get no, but that don't go

I'm that rapper, Sir Too Short
I know you've heard my name before
And if you haven't, now you have
Sir Too Short, don't stop that rap

Don't stop, I don't stop rappin
Too Short, don't stop that rap

I'm so rough so tough, when I talk my stuff
I don't stop rappin' 'cause, I'm too tough
Telling you rappers what it's all about
Most MC's are played out

But not Too Short, I'm the best
You know Too Short is so so fresh
If that's not short, your mind is snapping
The best is fresh 'cause, I don't stop rappin'

Don't stop, don't stop rappin'
Too Short, I don't stop rappin'

I'm Sir Too Short, the rapping man
I'm a cold MC and I know I am
I'm the big time rapper from East Oakland
Into music and making fans

I love young ladies who love my rhymes
'Cause what they say is right on time
The only MC with fresh hits
It's Sir Too Short, he never quits

That's so so true, what they say
I hear those words every day
'Cause I'm an MC rapper, who gives you more
The big time rapper, Sir Too Short

Don't stop, don't stop rappin'
Too Short, I don't stop rappin

Why do rappers rap like me?
Because I rap originally
I never ever will, sing your rap
I'll leave it to you and it's just like that

I sing my rap and I know you like
The way Sir Too Short rocks the mic
The sucker MC's don't even front
Even though Too Short is what they want

'Cause what I say is well prepared
I look at a rapper and I make him scared
Scared to battle, the cold cold capper
I'll even be part on a female rapper

Don't stop, don't stop rappin'
Too Short, I don't stop rappin'

California and a superstar
That what it is, that's what I see
California life was made for me

Born and raised in the golden state
MC rapper and you know I'm great
Just cooling out, acting shy
I got my mic and my rap won't stop

Don't stop, don't stop rappin'
Too Short, don't stop that rap

I met a freak named Jiggle G
Took her on a date and spent one penny
She bought me dinner, I bought her gum
Took her to my house to have some fun

I said, "Jiggle G, you're so fresh
You look so fine with your big big breasts"
I spit my game to her so tough
Sir Too Short was coming up

I did just what I wanted to
But when I finished, what did I do?
I took her home, real real fast
I charged her up for wasted gas

I knew just what she had to say
Let's get together on our next pay day
'Cause like I said, I know what's happening
And you know too, 'cause I don't stop rappin'

Don't stop, don't stop rappin'
Sir Too Short, spit that rap

Oh yes baby, I'm the most
Sir Too Short from the West Coast
My rap don't stop, it never could
I'm known all in your neighborhood

As an MC rapper, right on time
Sucker MC's don't sing my rhymes
'Cause if they do, I'll be slapping
Sucker MC's, 'cause I'm all about rappin'

Don't stop, I don't stop rappin'
Too Short, don't stop that rap

MC rappers, from the O
You talk about Short, but you don't know
If you rap original
I might kick back and watch your show

But if I did, what would I see?
A so fake and imitating sucka MC
In my face trying to rap like me
But none of you suckas can rock that beat

'Cause you stand there looking like a sap
And in your rap, I hear my rap
The sucka MC must want my fame
'Cause he didn't stop rappin' till he heard my name

Don't stop, I don't stop rappin'
Too Short, don't stop that rap

I'm Sir Too Short on the mic
Gonna tell ya what kind of girls Too Short likes
I like those girls that are real real fine
Thick young tenders, yours and mine

It's not all about getting that steak
'Cause what is a girl without a lot of bank?
A bump and a grind and she's on her knees
The way it is now, you might catch a disease

Don't stop, don't stop that rap
Sir Too Short, don't stop that rap

I don't stop rappin', just don't stop
Don't stop rappin', don't stop, don't stop
Too Short, so fresh
I'll show you how the game comes from the west

'Cause you never ever knew that it was going on
Till a brother like me put it in a song
And I'm always fresh, never the same
Just don't stop that fishes game

Don't stop, don't stop that rap
Too Short, don't stop that rap

I'm Sir Too Short, I'm that MC
Fresh again, with the beat
I'm the big bank roller, I know what's happening
I get on the mic and I don't stop rapping

Don't stop, I don't stop rapping
Too Short, don't stop that rap
Don't stop rapping, don't stop that rap

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c9a3fcb49fad3a38ac6d5136649f3c21

This How We Eat - Lyrics - Too $Hort

Title: This How We Eat
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Tracey La Marr Davis, Jerry Buddy Long, Darian Morgan, Todd Anthony Shaw, Keiwan Dashawn Spillmann, M Wells, Cecil D Womack, Zek Zekkariyas

Lyric:
Definition, gangsta, hustla, you know
We make money, we eat, we feed
Pay attention, bitch
Uhh, yeah, come on
Uhh, uhh, make some room
Dogg House, you know
Short Dog peep game, come on

I'm ridin' down the street, beat, feets got on twenty-tweets
No beer-belly fool, we get it all for eats
Cocoa Puff the green leaf, cloud up
We some gangsta's makin' money, never been a scrub

Whattchu know about sellin' dope?
But the only thing you good for now is droppin' the soap
Goldie Loc, Tray Deee, Too Short, no doubt
Tell 'em how we eat and what we all about, nigga

These hoes know, what's up, niggaz been havin' game
O.G.'s tell me real good, bitch, I'm the same
Motherfucker make 'em feel good, ya know my name
Bitch, if ya still could, you'd do the same

Made thirteen albums in a row
Be like Too Short, baby, and pimp a hoe
It's so easy, if ya know how to get it
You'll never be another broke-ass nigga

We got top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes
We eatin' sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios
We got top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes
We eatin' sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios

Fuck a business suit, I'm out to where we juice
Push the Bentley coupe and spend endless loot
Runnin' game from the brain or the stainless steel
Pushin' Holt's high-heels when we bang the field

With the heat out, jack the whole hood with G-clout
Invisible perimeters for niggaz to keep out
You ain't got to ask what the fuck are what we 'bout
Whatever, get the cheddar than an nigga can ease out

I used to be able to jump from the free-throw line and bang
Now, I bust and crush tracks, nothin' really changed
Except, twelve-inch scars on my body
What I mean by that, I was hit by some hotties

Call somebody, I'm layin' in this motherfucker bloody
It wasn't because of my shoes, clothes or money
I was at the wrong place at the wrong time
Paramedics don't know, I was a victim of the crime

Just keep gettin' that money, mayne
Fuck them niggaz, yeah, this is how we eat

We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes
We eatin' sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios

Don't be trick, you know these hoes so slick
Do yo' thang and get rich
And get wise, enterprise with the game ya got
You could slang some rocks, but better change ya spot

Ask anybody, I stay paid
Most niggaz want pussy, tryna get laid
Stayin' soft with a hoe getchu crossed by a hoe
I break a bitch down then I'm off with the dough

I'm so hungry, I can't wait to eat
I ride brand new shit down the street
Life is a game of chess who plays the best
Is the last one that's laid to rest

I know, you wanna eat good, it ain't hard
To be a real ghetto superstar
Focus is the key, if ya want it, it could be
If ya know where ya goin' from the moment you could see
That's game

We got top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes
We eatin' sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios
We got top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes
We eatin' sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios

Catch me headed out West Impala Drive
And when they see balkin' and be talkin' 'bout [Incomprehensible]
Too Short, Eastsidaz, and ya boy Big Tig
It's on and poppin' now, but we want always this big

Wanted a Benz and a Lotus
Whatever feels, sprayin' Raid on the roaches
I mean the whole damn scene was kinda hopeless
Came home to it, then we flipped the notice

Now, we big crib livin', Rockland and non-stop
With hot women, cop drops with rims that don't stop spinnin'
And it's just the beginnin'
'Cuz as long as the game strong we gon' keep winnin'

Big Tigger, Too Short, drops it so mean
That lets us go get us a team of flat screens
Three cars, three cribs and three bikes
When I drop this hot shit, I'm gonna cop three plus three mics

Y'all niggaz better stop playin' and get yo' game tight
Too Short, Eastsidaz, Big Tig, oh boy
Album number 13 nigga, y'all better stop chasin' the cat
And chase that money, well, unless you know
The cat got money this how we eat nigga
Let's go, oh boy

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14fcc53041d74b51a7d5fe90d2e4241b

I Want To Be Free (That'S The Truth) - Lyrics - Shorty The Pimp - Too $Hort

Title: I Want To Be Free (That'S The Truth)
Album: Shorty The Pimp
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): James Ralph Bailey, Willie Beck, Leroy Bonner, Isaac Hayes, Marshall E. Jones, Melvin Kent, Ralph Middlebrooks, Marvin R. Pierce, Clarence Satchell, Todd Anthony Shaw, James L. Williams, Kenneth Williams

Lyric:
You think Oakland, California, is a city of punks
It only takes a second to pop the trunk
And just like that, you know it's real
You're in the right damn town to get killed

It's all about the game and nothin' else
You come out here, you better watch yourself
'Cause you can wear what you want, even blue or red
But cross the wrong brothers and end up dead

You catch a body full of bullets and get blasted
Tryin' to be a gangsta but you just ain't lastin'
This little town is gettin' wild as hell
Check the penetentiaries and all the jails

If they could lock us all up, that would be just fine
Got my partners from Oakland doin' serious time
You can't argue with the truth, it's hard to be black
But it's a mindgame and you gotta deal with that

I wake up everyday and I just can't wait
To make mo money 'cause back in the days
When I rapped, I did the same damn thing I do now
Grab the microphone and show you how

But I was broke, the only thing I had was game
I started makin' money and knew things would change
Bought a Benz, thought it might earn respect
But the OPD found it hard to accept

I got jacked by the [unverified]
Face down on the ground, keep my hands in sight
Put the handcuffs on backseat, I'm in it
Illegal search for about thirty minutes

Askin' me where's the dope
Where's my gun but I don't know
I said I'm rappin', they laugh like I told a joke
And to this day they think I'm sellin' coke

I want to be free, ohh yeah
(And that's the truth)
I want to be free, ohh yeah

I be in Oakland, California every day of my life
Bass so hard, you think I'm smokin' a pipe
And if I don't smoke it, I gots to grind
Searched all my stuff and all you find
Is a pocket full of money, count seven G's
Now you wanna think I'm sellin' keys

'Cause I'm a black man, but I run my own business
So why the police wanna send me to prison
They see a brother makin' major cash
They knock a patch out his black ass

And that's the truth, you can't argue you at all
Tryin' to give you ten years for a phone call
Ain't even trippin' on the dank smoke
'Cause all they wanna find is guns and coke

In court all the time, tryin' to fight it
We get rich, we get [unverified]
So what's the problem officer, this time?
Is havin' big money, bein' black a crime?

Or did you take me to jail to teach me a lesson
Charge me with somethin' or just ask questions
About the brothers I hang around?
What's really goin' on in the Oakland town?

Tell me who went broke, and who got rich
But Too $hort baby, just ain't no snitch
You say you're just doin' your job
But you're gettin on my nerves, just like Bob

Every time I hit a corner, I see you
Always tellin' brothers what to do
You lock me up 'cause I don't know how to act
But I'm down for mine, so I be talkin' back
And when I do, you treat me bad as hell
I'm sick of spendin' nights in jail

I want to be free, ohh yeah
(And that's the truth)
I want to be free, ohh yeah

Got out of jail about [unverified]
Walkin' down the street like a broke dopefiend
Had a pocket full of money tryin' to play the role
Benz got towed and I was hella cold

But I ain't trippin', I'm gettin' used to it now
Handcuffed, your boy took me straight downtown
For three warrants, had to catch me sooner or later
'Cause the five-oh's always tryin' to jack a playa

For no reason, wasn't doin nothin wrong
You think I'm lyin', singin' that same ol song
Well I'm a black man, ridin' in a Benz
How in the hell did I make these ends?

Here we go, I pull over to the right
Stop the engine, keep my hands in sight
I start cursin' 'cause it don't make sense
Why would I run and try to jump a fence

If I was plannin' a smooth getaway
I never woulda stopped in the first place
You'd be high speed chasin' me but this time you ain't
'Cause all I got on me is a big fat bank

And I hope I don't get robbed by you know who
Make me donate some G's to the boys in blue
And if I sue, I won't get nothin' back
But I ain't mad, I'm just black

I want to be free, ohh yeah
I want to be free, ohh yeah
I want to be free, ohh yeah
I want to be free, ohh yeah

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453675e3a31265da05177eb3a726d64e

Old School - Lyrics - Too $Hort

Title: Old School
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Don Anthony Brown, Todd Anthony Shaw

Lyric:
Old school, I'm from the old school
Old school, I'm from the old school

I came in the door as the story goes
Looked around the room all I seen was hoes
It's like a pussy supermarket, let's go shoppin'
Packed like sardines, clubs straight poppin'
Fuck the V.I.P. section
I'm bout to hit the pharmacy, and get my head connected
Get me some protection
Walk around and see who I wanna have sex with

The usual a nice high yellow cutie
Or maybe tonight, I might find a black beauty
With a big ol' booty, no doubt
We'll have a few drinks and then roll out
I can't do the 'Jungle Fever'
'Cause it's too many black hoes here that might see ya
If I peep a white broad with some ass and lips

Fine as hell I'ma have to ask the bitch somein'
'Cause I might end up fuckin'
I don't care what you say, I don't owe you hoes nothin'
I fuck tall bitches, even fuck small bitches
Too bad I can't fuck all you bitches
It don't take players like me too long
To get bitches like you to let me take you home
I got the game from Oakland, California
I'm Short Dawg, I hope your momma warned ya

'Bout the old school, do the old school
I'm from the old school, do the old school

I'm always hustlin', always workin' hard
If you tryin' to get the money I'ma do my part
On the weekends, we like to celebrate
Cash checks ride away can't wait
Fuck crime I'm bustin' Too Short rhymes
Unless it's bout millions I ain't tryin' to do time
It's like everyday is Saturday
So many bitches let me have my way

You can analyze it, all you want
But I was knockin' bad hoes with no teeth in the front
When I had no money and drove my momma's car
I had bad-ass bitches look like superstars
It's the game, old as it may be
it makes fine-ass hoes call me baby
I look down and think, this that fuckin' shit
Seein' this beautiful bitch, she just suckin' my dick

Too many times in a player's wife
We always have to hear what you squares feel like
Fuck that, do what you gotta do
I see you creepin' through the hood buyin' prostitutes
I know I'm fuckin' hoes, and gettin' high
You wanna criticize me but you livin' a lie
With yo' suit and tie, and yo' love for hoes
You ain't shit motherfucker and Short Dawg knows

I'm from the old school, do the old school
Do the old school, I'm from the old school

Don't cross the game they'll take yo' life
Respect the game and you can play all night
If you snitchin', don't get caught slippin'
If you bloodn' or cripn', other niggaz set-trippin'
Watch yo' back, it don't take a brainiac
We got a lot of homicidal maniacs in the streets
Sometimes life is terrible
Y'all say goodbye, niggaz say be careful

Back in the day they woulda killed yo' ass
For a reason, they might even keep you breathin'
Fuck your whole world up, you can't get down
Broke livin' on the streets and you can't skip town
But ain't no slow deaths in the triple oh
If you fuckin up then you get to go
Somebody gon' hold you down
So you can't get up off that cold ground
Lights flashin', and you keep passin' out
You know you fucked up with your bad-ass mouth

Once upon a time they woulda knocked you out
Maybe back in ninety-nine, but not in 2000
Anybody wanna do it like the old school?
Hella niggaz at the park with no shootin'
Sunday afternoon, at the park
Niggaz leanin' hella hard goin' by in the car

Do the old school, do the old school
I'm from the old school, do the old school
Old school do the old school
I'm from the old school
Yeah old school baby, beotch!

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917818b238518acae54bc17438b64187

Country Cousins - Lyrics - Ear Drum - Talib Kweli

Title: Country Cousins
Album: Ear Drum
Artist: Talib Kweli
Composer(s): Fonce Mizell, Raheem Devaughn, Larry Mizell, Talib Kweli Greene, Bernard James Freeman, Chad L. Butler

Lyric:
Yo son, what the deal, son? What's really hood, son?
The word is bond, shit is real, shit is real
Yo son, this block is dead
Nigga need to go over here and pop off real quick
Yo, I gotta get that guap by all means
You know what I'm sayin', son?

Growin' up in Brooklyn, shit
I thought that everybody talked this way
Raised on Rakim and Run-DMC
So I thought that everybody 'Walked This Way'

We fresh, we chill, we def, we ill
It's just some things I was taught to say
And every Saturday morning
I watched cartoons with a bowl of Frosted Flakes

The puberty came, started hittin' them cuties with game
And the truancy came
Started cuttin' in just class, I was comin' all fast, I was new to game
Used to playin' on TV courtesy of video music box
Plus knew a lot of hustlas, goin' O.T., comin' back with the new hip hop

Like E-40 holding down the yay , N.W.A. in L.A.
OutKast from the A-Town, way down in Houston, they play the UGK
I walk and talk kinda fast and thought of as a New York kinda rhymer
But must New Yorkers got family in South and North Carolina

L.A. is little Alabama
They walk and they talk with a country grammar
And you think everybody else sound country
So they started callin' 'em Bamas

Down south where we buy them hammers
Down south where we sell them drugs
Down south where life is cheap
Where they quick to fill you with them slugs

It's nothin', I'm from New York but I got country cousins
It's nothin', you stay connected by the slang you bustin'
Want it simply put? You can't rip me
When I spit for the set, everyone free
I'ma underground king, nigga Pimp C free
Word up to my man Bun B, what?

It's nothin', I'm from New York but I got country cousins
It's nothin', you stay connected by the slang you bustin'
The things you bustin', the game you hustlin', the days you're cuttin'
The flame you cuffin' and the lames you snuffin', your name is nothin'

Growin' up in P.A., I knew nobody out there talked like us
Nothin' but that county slang, what up, dog? What up, cuzz?
Late night you see us guzzlin' 40's, menthols, wine and weed
Sittin' on the back porch, gettin' zooted, feelin' fine indeed

Listenin' to Eric Band, Rakim or EPMD
Cool C and Steady B, plus that Public Enemy
Not to mention N.W.A., DJ Quik and MC Eiht
Down south we listen to it all, we didn't discriminate

Then along came Geto Boys, Raheem and the Royal Flush
Rap-A-Lot Records based out in Houston, represents for us
OG style, they cars, ditch that 4 and too much trouble
Our squad is gangsta nigga, put it down for H-Town on the double

So I said it's time to hustle, got down with my brother C
Put together UGK and shit, the rest is history
We make hits by the dozen, put it down when they said we wasn't
Trust me it's nothin', just another day in the life for country cousins

It's nothin', I'm from New York but I got country cousins
It's nothin', you stay connected by the slang you bustin'
Want it simply put? You can't rip me
When I spit for the set, everyone free
I'ma underground king, nigga Pimp C free
Word up to my man Bun B, what?

It's nothin', I'm from New York but I got country cousins
It's nothin', you stay connected by the slang you bustin'
The things you bustin', the game you hustlin', the days you're cuttin'
The flame you cuffin' and the lames you snuffin', your name is nothin'

In Brooklyn, New York, I'm down with Large and Marl
Back in P.A.T., man, we be sippin' the barre
I'm down with J from Houston and I think it should be
But when I'm out in L.A., I fuck with Ice-T

$hort Dog is my OG, we been down forever
Taught me the game, lane to lane, and keep my pimpin' together
Niggaz don't understand by far back in the day
It was 'mazin' and my brother put me up on Black Star

Start as blacks off the news, I weighed
'Cause we isolate ourselves and give our ghetto pass away
My niggaz passed away in an unreal way
They mommas' depleted
I'm just tryna make sure that their kids straight

I'm on the Chitalin tour with my mic in my hand
Shittin' on these jealous niggaz in the new world clan
I wouldn't trade it for nothin', only a crazy man would
I represent for the whole south, I made it just for my hood
The pimpin's good

I got cousins, country cousins
Like blood that's thicker than water, down dirty 'cross the border
I got cousins, country cousins
Like blood that's thicker than water, down dirty 'cross the border
In my country cousins

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4ff1fc35dc36ef2f591d02a9af5a8b87

U Stank - Lyrics - Too $Hort

Title: U Stank
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): George Jr Clinton, Derick Coleman, Tracey Lewis, Todd Anthony Shaw, Taj Tilghman

Lyric:
Luscious bitch, she is true
But it's not nice to fool Mother Nature
The proud mother of God, like all hoes
Is, is jealous of her own shadow

Who is this young big tawny bitch
Who wish to be queen for a day?
Who would sacrifice the great grandsons
An' daughters of her jealous mother?

By suckin' their brain until their ability
To think was amputated
By pimpin' their instincts until they were fat
Horny an' strung out
An' her right to be kept queen of the universe
Who is this bitch?

You get somethin' for nothin' when you got to get the gas
Spit the game in her ear, tell her get on the ave
It's mind manipulation in every situation
There's a pimp an' a ho
Somebody roll this Dayton downhill

Takin' the easy way
While the other brother say it should be this way
Which one are you? 'Cause I was 'Born to Mack'
Since the day of my birth, I was sworn to that

It's the P I M P that's in me
You envy, how instantly I make ten G's
An' never lift a finger, makes you wanna bring a
Player to the show an' get your clown, Jerry Springer

Blame the consumers, how I look at life
It's just another day in a hooker's life
With no tricks, there's no pimpin'
It's like drugs with no fiends, sex with no women

Down with the P Funk, F U N Kaich
Down with the P Funk, P U
Down with the P Funk, F U N K
Why not?

Let's funk until they smell it
(Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank)
Let's funk until they smell it

I came through, the party was packed
I saw three top notches, the rest was rats
I could smell it, when I first touched down
I saw yo' bitch, she wanna fuck right now

Quit actin' scared 'cause I just might get her
Spend the night wit her, won't spend my life wit her
My specialty is runnin' game
But this ain't hide an' go get it, I ain't playin'

I'm on a constant pursuit of panties
She said she had a man, I said, ?Bitch, can he
Stick dick to ya, give ya long slow strokes
Or beat your pussy up 'til it smokes??

Young girl lookin' brand new, told me what her man do
Fake-ass nigga, she can't stand you
I took advantage of her, nigga, fuck you
I know bitches, I know just what to do

I like fat girls, I had plenty
Black an' white, tall or skinny
If you asked me, I won't change my mind
I can't marry you, I told you that the last time

Let's funk 'em, let's funk 'em
'Til they smell it
Let's funk 'em 'til they smell it
Bitch, let's funk 'em 'til they smell it
(Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank)

Let's funk 'em 'til they smell it
Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank
Miss me with that shit
(Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank)
Miss me with that shit, bitch

Now, it happened
A case of the miss me with that shits
Miss me with that shit, somethin' stink

Well, I might be young but I bathe in Cristal
Bitches, they know the name, sling dick like pistol
Cuff your bitch now 'fore we put her on tape
With some dick on her face, screamin' gimme a taste

Fuck the rest of these niggaz an' bitches
That's like niggaz, man, fuck that nigga
I'ma pawn that nigga, I'm beyond that nigga
If you ain't packin' a pistol then run, my nigga

'Cause we been to known to rip shit up
So keep yo' chains up
'Fore you lames get plucked, you shut the fuck up
Shut the fuck up 'fore I bust two at your truck
Draped in all black, two in the Coupe, you better duck

Who's that lookin' through my window? Blaow, nobody now
You motherfuckers better lay it down
B A B Y, capital D C
Virtual pimpin', we mackin' in 3-D

Miss me with that shit
Yeah, that ain't no jive

Down with the P Funk, F U N K
(Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank)
Why not? Beotch
Down with the P Funk, F U N K, u stank
Down with the P Funk, F U

Down with the P Funk, F U N K
(U stank)
Why not?
P Funk, F U N
(Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank)
Down with the P Funk, P U
(U stank, bitch)

Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank
I smell ya, u stank
Oh, it's so funky 'cause u stank, beotch
Jump yo' ass in the tub, u stank

Now you got me talkin' niggarish
So just color me like a nigga
Peanut bitin' on my tongue
While I'm spillin' nigga gibberish

Nigga got a habit of babblin' broken English
So make an American African nigga won't be distinguished
Perceivin' me to be somewhat a common nigga?
Fuck an AK 47, a millimeter

Don't need a fresh hooker on my jock shootin' drag
Gettin' paid hoe, go rush some cash
You went to school to still run in the street
Back in the day, you know a raw nigga like me don't play

I'ma blue B L A C K black-ass nigga
Suck my dick an' make it bigger
As I walk into the party, I grab my goatin' ass
You see him an' you love him, here you go, hoe, hug him

Walkin' around here with your lips curled, makin' me sick
Actin' like you got class, this here Sheba Makeba
I said naw, disagree
She was a beat the bitch, bitch, I bet I'll beat yo' ass

In a minute, I'm a cuss
I'm a nigga, I don't give a motherfuck
Jam is biggerer, thickerer
You a nigga but I am nigga-er
This is to be, spit it, baby

Hey, did you get that shit on tape?
Oh, my God, that nigga is cold, dawg
You see my pockets stay full, yours stay empty
You say I look Kunta Kinte
Blue black ain't shit jack, I'm blacker than that
Jet black, yeah, I do smoke crack

You an' your bitch will get checked
I have no respect for a skeezer
I'll slap her in her muh'fuckin' face
An' it won't disgrace this nigga
Oh, yes, oh, my God
Nigga, you got some shit done

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b6cb3823804f8bb1ef6797c0885363c0

Hoes - Lyrics - Blow The Whistle - Too $Hort

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Ain'T Nothing Like Pimpin' - Lyrics - Cocktails - Too $Hort

Title: Ain'T Nothing Like Pimpin'
Album: Cocktails
Artist: Too $Hort
Composer(s): Eric Breed, Ramon Russell Gooden, Stuart Jordan, Pee Wee Todd Anthony Shaw, Shorty

Lyric:
Ain't nuthin like pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Ain't nuthin like pimpin just don't quit
Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

My diamonds and the Lex say it's time to flow
Wonder how I got rich, they say I rhyme too slow, so
I'm from the "O" I for what I know
And like I told your ass before you can fuck my hoe
I ride nuthin but vogues, ain't hittin no switches
Top down in my Caddy just me and my bitches
With a Ziplock bag full of green weed
I roll it all up 'cause I'm a fiend in need
Of some dank smoke all up in my chest
Dangerous Crew got the bomb, we don't smoke that stress
'Cause we getting funky on album 9
I smoked a few joints bitch now I'm fine
Studio's in a cloud
Smelling kind of loud
Nuthin like pimpin
Nigga fuck Bill Clinton
Make me the mother fucking president
I'll make the White House a hoe house and all the pimps, To just
Set up shops like they do in Vegas
Legalize pimpin for all the playa's
Puttin fine ass bitches in the streets and the hood
Every year a nigga trade for a new Fleetwood
You know I'm rollin, I can't be faking
I come through and all your hoes I'm taking
You know I'm rolling, don't do no simpin
I'm an Oaktown playa ain't nuthin like pimpin
Ain't nuthin like the pimp game you should know
Never love a bitch or a hoe
You fell in love with her though trying to get in them pants
And the next thing ya know your baby momma's a tramp
Don't get mad now nigga want to shove the bitch
'Cause a year ago, you know, you loved the bitch
Now your stomache's upset and your feelings are hurt
She gotcha looking like an old banana peel in the dirt
Bitch, slipped up and hit your ass for a lick
Talking that mother fucking baby shit
You'z a punk ass nigga can't you see
Thatz the difference between niggas like you and me
I got bitches, on my mind
It's been like that for a real long time
I know the way them hoes take your cash
They let you fuck and make you pay up fast
Trick nigga, why you wanna be like that
Let them try for lent bitches take your fat ass stack
Couldn't tell them hoes nuthin but the punk in you
'Cause they already know what they want from you
Big bank, Ben Franklin, do the bitch just fine
She'll be taking all of yours and can't fuck with mine
I'm the M to the A to the C and K
All you playa hating niggas shouldn't be that way

There ain't nuthin like pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Ain't nuthin like pimping just don't quit
Mother fuck you damn shit head bitch

Lights, camera, action, cut
Hollywood look out the bitch is coming up
She took acting classes 'bout to be on her way
On a Greyhound bus from home to L.A
She said it wouldn't take long to make it to the top
A few auditions land a job
I was down in L.A., hit the club for a drink
I'm a player ass nigga tell me what do ya think
I walked up to the bitch in my clean ass suit
And I told her, I've been watching you
I peeped you out from the bar
You must be a model or a movie star
She said "No, but that's my dream
To see my face on the movie screen"
I tell ya nothing but game came out my mouth
She was talking 'bout agents, I was turning her out
I said "Listen real close to what I'm saying
All you need is meyou don't need no agent"
I'm a pimp ass nigga and the game don't stop
"All you gotta do is fuck a few big shots
Cause if you can't do that, they're going to hold ya back"
She was sucking up the game, down to do all that
She said "Short baby, I ain't no simp"
But the nigga in the suit ain't nuthin but a pimp
And all them white guys you had sex with
They weren't big shots, they were nothing but tricks
She came to me and said it just won't last
I looked, and I laughed, and I kicked her ass
'Cause all she wanted was the fame
But you can't get shit when you don't have game

Guerilla pimpin just let it roll
Mother fucking shit god damn asshole
Guerilla pimps just don't quit
I say mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Ain't nuthin like pimpin now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

There ain't nuthin like pimp now you know
I want a bitch thats a top notch hoe
Just a Beyotch

Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Ain't nuthin like pimpin now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

There ain't nuthin like pimping now you know
I want a bitch thats an everyday hoe
Just a Beyotch

Say mother fuck you damn shithead beyatch

Mmm Mmm Mmmmmm

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

Nuthin but a pimp

Mother fuck you damn shithead bitch

Short Dogg ain't nuthin but a pimp

Mother fucking shit god damn asshole

Cuss words. Mother fuck you damn shithead beyotch

Nuthin like pimpin now you know
Ain't nuthin like pimpin so now you know

Beyotch

There ain't nothing like pimpin now you know

Ain't nuthin like pimping damn shithead bitch
Ain't nuthin like pimpin so now you know

There ain't nothing like pimping god damn asshole

Ah

That's it nigga, there is no more. Life is

Thatz deep. Yeah. That right. There ain't nothing like a bitch
Ain't nothing like a mother fucking, BITCH
You, nasty, once a month bleeding mother fucking nasty ass mother fuck it
(Takes a deep breath)
BITCH, I hate your mother fucking ass. You mother fucking Beeeeeeyoooootch
BeyotchAnd your momma too. Fuck all yall. Hahahaha

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057b29417cd70e2e2c8e2ea158a28695

Ol Dirty'S Back - Lyrics - Ol' Dirty Bastard

Title: Ol Dirty'S Back
Artist: Ol' Dirty Bastard
Composer(s): Russell Jones

Lyric:
Sup? Let's go
(Yo Snoop Dogg, yo Dre, yo Too $hort
E-40 and the motherfucking Click)
Nuff respect to the West coast
(Duh, duh, duh)

Yo, Ol' Dirty Bastard coming through
Know what I'm saying? I got the East coast
Locked the fuck down, hear my shit, nigga
(Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, Brooklyn)

Shit is crazy real in the field
I watched niggaz blood get spilled over five dollar bills
And major drug deals on the real
See a nigga get meals and his bitch get him killed

In this American dream to get some cream
You're ownin' a Beem and your face in magazines
12 O'Clock maintains in the game
Bring the Pain to smokin' Method, main

It's not all about the fame, silly ass dames
Get a gold record and you change
And for the niggaz sellin' cocaine
You're too blame

Black people lives ain't the same
And that's the Tale in my Hood
Niggaz is up to no good
You better watch em in them hoods

I always thought livin' life was easy
Go to school, get a job, yo it couldn't be me
So instead, I played my bed
My momma got fed, and now a nigga livin' with a dread

My best fuckin' friend, knew him since ten
Nigga feed me cream, let me whip the Benz
Houses all over Texas, lightning gold Lexus
He had enough respect to dress this

Expensive Tim suits, girl wearin' fly Gucci boots
Put me on like pook
Every morning that I awake
Ten G's in my fuckin' face, combination to the safe

Son run the state, carrying coke by the weight
Nigga put pounds in the weed gate
And it's ran by Ol' Dirty
12 o'clock, my little brother, he keeps it dirty, dirty

Fuck all that motherfucking drug selling shit
I wanna see some motherfucking lyrics
I wanna hear some motherfucking lyrics
What up nigga, what?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha ha
I got you nigga

I'll rip mics on site you know the type
New Jack, this is my City like Wesley Snipes
Go fly a kite or somethin', make some muffins
I come up bad in the town like Charles Bronson

Now set your speaker and I'll do you for that reason
12 is no joke I bring wreck through the seasons
Solomon, contend, many more but just when
That Joker act you can save for Jack Nicholson

One two and three, through your rap fatigue
In the MC world, is a minor league
What you speak, you swear it's unique
It's just a peek, physique, of an old antique

Don't expect a project, then it's bound to freeze
Your whole head is stuck and stiff
Next Siamese, I never liked rhymes
That's incomplete, then again obsolete

I shall repeat, there's an Easy Street
For niggaz who earned, then learn your sojourn
Then you return, as an intelligent, positive, messenger
Not an experiment negative Lucifer

With a tittling gloss of crafted skin
Nothing like spring sauce, of the true origin
Who would score, the wizard of war
Came in best man was a god damn dinosaur

No more jungle-like living, from the Blue Lagoon
It's not an Animal House, National loon Lampoon
If you understand the what, when, why, how
Are you fellas who exempt or to disallow

A fresh MC, that will knock you down?
I gets dizzy spellbound like a merry-go-round
While I'm freaking, shall I expose
You take a subject, and then you decompose

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