I was told not long ago
"Too $hort don't stop that rap!'
Now every time I grab the mic
I rock it just like that
8 years ago when I started my rap
I used to sell tapes everywhere
It was me and my homeboy Freddy B, y'all
Kickin' it like big players
Everybody loved my raps like hundred dollar bills
I rocked house parties on 98th
Even rocked in the 6-9 'ville
Might find me on the mic at "Hot Lips" house
Or at the East Bay Dragons' Spot
All the 8-5 boys with their hands in the air
Screaming "Too $hort just don't stop!'
Like Arroyo Park, like Plymouth Rock
Birch Street and Sunnyside
Like Sobrante Park and Brookfield
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, y'all, 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 down 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
And said you saw me rappin' in jail
No, I never came down to the flat lands
I was chillin' with the homies on 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'm blamin' it all on you
Everybody used to say 'Too $hort don't stop that rap!'
Now every time you see my face
You say I'm smokin' crack
Oakland, Cal-i-for-ni-a, 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
Every time I grab the mic
My bankroll's gettin' fat
Freaky Tales took care of that
You know I'm comin' up
'Cause every time you see my face
I'm rollin' oh so tough
When I made the cut...the-the-the Freaky Tales
I started picturin' this
I named my album, "Born To Mack"
With the cleanest drop Biarritz
Everything 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' there draped in gold
I ain't trippin' no more
Really ain't worth my time
So to squash it all I kicked on back
And wrote you all a rhyme
Benzes roll, Beamers jet
And Caddies keep on dippin'
You keep on talkin' all that crap
I ain't trippin'...
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
