Too $hort, MC



Rap like me, you'll go straight to the top

Keep doing what you're doing and you're sure to get dropped

Like a trick, nothing's even up my sleeve

A million albums sold and it's hard to believe

Well it's true homeboy, it's not a lie

I used to sell tapes on Sunnyside

I used to catch the 40 bus around the way

Me and Fred Benz, slanging tapes

All these things, that we did

Grab the microphone and start screaming "Bitch!"

You fronting MC, I hate to cap

You make hit records and you still can't rap

I said it before, I'll say it again

You don't belive me, ask your fans

When I walked into Cali, the place was packed

Sir Too $hort "Don't stop that rap"

I keep rapping my rhymes, all the time

You got no rhymes, so you listen to mine

I'm not starting a fight, just telling it right

The best damn rapper who ever grabbed the mic

His name is Too $hort, now shut your mouth

In '81 I was rocking the house

I'm a hustler, baby, coming up

I hustle every day and I don't sell drugs

I don't run no gangs, don't shoot no dice

Gave the same damn speech to the Oakland vice

But if you keep pushing, just like you

When they see me on the strip, coming through

I break it down so vicious it'll break your back

With the beat so loud playing Too $hort raps

That's it, I'm set

No need to talk that bullshit

I need a, Oaktown, big time sound

Just enough beat to get on down

So, you other rappers listen to mine

You wouldn't catch Short Dog rapping nursery rhymes

Call my rap trash, jam the junk

Put a sticker on the cover: "X-Rated Funk"

It's just me, you say I won't go far

But I won't stop rapping cause I rap so hard

>From here to New York, back to California

I bumped your girlfriend, don't say I didn't warn ya

All this time you said she's your ho

You really shouldn't give baby all that dough

She gave it all to me cause I fuck so good

I practice on the girls in my neighborhood

Cause when I'm freaky I rap, I spit a rap to a freak

I rarely ever think about a sucker MC

I go platinum, it's just like slapping 'em, bitch

Short Dog in the house, starting some shit

MC's rock and MC's roll

But the albums they make never go gold

When I was young, I knew I'd be one of the best

Every time I made a song it came out so fresh

I was the king of the Oaktown, spitting my game

10 years later, ain't nothing changed

Still the Boss of the Bay, and I know what they say

They call me "Godfather" and they call you "Gay"

Bitch! It's 1990

Your girlfriend's out there trying to find me

She heard about me, I fucked her best friend

I guess she wants to see if I can do it again

You want to be like me, so damn bad

The impossible dream all you MC's had

If you could rap like me, you wouldn't have the dream

Start rapping quit flapping like a chicken wing

If could rap like me, they say you're so great

But when they talk about you, they say you're so fake

And as the days go by, you can't forget

The way I make you feel like shit

MC's like you, I've seen 'em before

You keep on saying "Fuck Too $hort"

But I'm a better MC than you

And ain't a damn thing you can do, but bitch

On the TV screen, in the magazines

When they interview you, you just make up things

You're on an ego trip and you're fronting like you're down

You're not the first real rapper from the Oakland town

You're just a new jack, and you can't even rap

You wanna trip? Trip on that

I'm like MC Lyte, checking hoes tonight

If you're not a real rapper, get off the mic

Cause with a fake MC, a song's never complete

You'd better learn to rap like me



	"Thought you want to be like Too $hort" (Scratched 2x)



Whenever I rap, you call it noise

I'm tearing up shit up like the Acorn Boys

On 10th street, I got a big freak

Until you learn to speak, realize you're weak

Cause it's the Oaktown, and they all get down

To the rhythm of the Too $hort funky sound

It goes boom, baseline's on ya

Dangerous Crew from Oakland, California

Bitch don't front cause Short Dog is hard

If you answer my rap, I tear your ass apart

Just liket this, it lasts forever

You make a song and I make one better

You say I cuss, I say you're fake

Your eyes pop open like paper plates

You fronting MC, I hate to cap

I make hit records with the vicious raps

I said it before, I'll say it again

The boy ain't nothing but one of my fans

Like silicon titties, can you feel 'em?

How can a fake rapper fuck with a real one?

Shit, I'm that rapping man

I like you like the Klu Klux Klan

Motherfucker want to front on me?

My posse got a real MC, Too $hort

And it don't stop, and it don't stop, and it won't stop

Cause I'm Too $hort baby on the microphone and I'm macking, bitch



	"Thought you want to be like Too $hort" (Scratched 4x)



Now back to the subject, my boy MC

Whatever you say, you can't rap like me

Rappers like me make real hits

Rappers like you talk bullshit

I told my boys there's a new Funky Drummer in town

You're trying to be like James Brown

If I couldn't be me, who would I be?

I damn sure wouldn't be a sucker MC

Cause I'm not like you, my game is true

I pimped these hoes and I pimped you, too

Cause I'm boss, and boss makes the rules

You disobey and you be a fool (Now listen)

One, remember how it all began

Don't guess, the answer is "Oakland"

Two, you'd better learn to rap like me

Or you like to be a fake MC

Three, never talk down on a player

I wouldn't care if you was Fred Astaire

Last but not least, number four:

Don't ever fuck with Too $hort, bitch



	"Thought you want to be like Too $hort" (Scratched 2x)