Funky fresh on the muthafuckin microphone
Bitch And it don't stop
To the beat, baby Oakland, California is in the house
Bitch ( VERSE 1 )
I tell you, nobody does it better than Too $hort
I got so many raps, I know you can't have more
Cause I grew up on the mic, I spent my whole life
Writin raps, late at night
And I never would make no fake LP's
Sucker MC's don't make no g's
They make weak, weak raps, and need to quit
22 songs, and only 3 on hit
Frontin on me like you want some
Better sell a million records, go platinum
Cause I wouldn't waste my time on a oneYou wanna get with me, you gotta climb that ladder
But you ain't nothin but a joke
Rappers make money, tell me why are you broke?
We get paid like a muthafucka, and we get
A brandA brandI always keep the top down on the highway
Too $hort, baby, known everywhere
Had a lifeWay too cold at a younger age
It was everyday, 'just make that pay'
12 years later, still in the game
And you never talk down on a player's name
Cause I'm (Too $hort, Too $hort) ( VERSE 2 )
You see, I'm fresh like always with funky beats
I say what's up to the brothers on 10th Street
It's goin down in the Oakland town
Home of the infamous Too $hort sound
So keep your jealousAnd if you're lookin for a leader, you can hire me
And if your soThe only thing you need to say
Is.
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