Tom: G minor
Verse 1
Em
So you motherfuckers thought
I was gonna change my style?
Verse 2
Em
- So what are you saying Todd?
Verse 3
Em
To all you bitches, hoes,
F
G
and all that shit
Em
Here's another rap that I'm ready to spit
F
G
It goes like this, my name is $hort
Em
I'm tearin shit up like never before
F
G
Pimp slaps, makin snaps
Em
Cold cash money and Too $hort raps
F
Oakland, California that's where I'm from
G
Em
The city where the boys say
you don't want none
But if you do,
F
G
Em
I'm gonna tell you this
(
Verse 4
F
G
want to roll so hard, all of the time
Em
You and that bitch playin Too $hort rhymes
F
If you aks me, what it's all about,
G
Em
I'll say it's about that money
F
But if you aks me, could you have some,
G
Em
I'll say it doesn't concern me
G
F
G
Ronald Reagan came up to me and said,
Em
"Do you have the answer
G
F
To the United States economy
G
Em
and a cure for cancer?"
F
I said, what are you doin in the White
G
Em
House if you're not sellin cocaine?
G
F
Ask your wife, Nancy Reagan,
G
Em
I know she'll spit that game.
G
F
Like one night, she came to my house,
G
Em
and gave me a blow job
G
F
She licked my dick, up and down,
G
Em
like it was corn on the cob
F
G
What is life? It is Too $hort
Em
I play the bitches like it's a sport
F
Yea, I'll play the bitches just like y'all
G
Em
Like Dr. J played basketball
F
You can call me Too, don't say it twice
G
Em
You'll get me real mad
and I'll fuck your wife
F
You see I'm not proper, I'm rarely polite
G
Em
Too $hort, Too $hort, don't say it tonight,
beeatch
G
Em
morning in 1987
F
I was in my drop-to Caddy Caddy y'all
G
Em
Gettin sucked by a bitch
G
F
Nasty bitches, around the world,
G
Em
I wrote this rhyme for you
F
You might not like my rap,
G
Em
but I'm tellin you bitch it's true
F
G
So much death in the Oakland streets
Em
Am I gonna live till next week?
F
G
Will I get shot by a dope fiend,
Em
Tryin to get high, tryin to steal my ring
I really can't say,
G
F
G
cause I don't know why
Em
People out here droppin dead like flies
G
F
G
I used to see a home boy givin five
Em
Now I say, "Man, you still alive?"
G
F
Cold as hell, the town I'm from
G
Em
Won't last too long when
you're fakin the funk
F
G
I'm the master rapper, so unique
Em
Clap my hand when I want my freak
G
F
You can't deny it, you know I'm right
G
Em
I turn any rapper out when
I'm on the mic
F
And I won't kick back, or relax
G
Em
Till he knows I'm the best at the MC rap
F
Till he knows Too Short, set the track
G
Em
They got him caught up in
my serious cap
Motherfucker can't spit
G
Em
Cause he's worse than
a fag or a Frisco dike
F
He's a sucker MC, I call him punk
G
Em
You try to spit that rap,
you can scratch that junk
You little punk-ass boy, boy,
G
Em
Think I'm fakin but I'm
takin all you sucker MC's
To the end of the world
G
Em
Good luck couldn't find
you in a four leaf clover
F
If I ever said a rap, tryin to cap on you,
G
Em
I wouldn't even sweat it
cause you'll be through
F
Lookin so far up, you might fall down
G
Em
Gettin clowned by the hound
And the look in your face when
G
Em
Could make a grown man die,
laughin at you
Em
Cause you're a, no rappin,
F
G
no rhymin
Em
Em
Played out fake ass simple simon
F
I never understood one word you said
G
Em
But you're swearin up and down
that you're killin em dead
Em
F
There's only one thing, I wanted to know
G
Em
Sucker motherfucker,
F
I'm the player of players, just call me Pop
G
Em
My name is Too $hort, no I don't stop
Em
I just don't stop mackin,
G
Em
Don't stop rappin now
F
Your mind is gone, your crew just cut
G
Em
Sucker MC I'll tell you what
G
Em
And when it comes to game,
F
G
Never even heard of Too $hort baby
Em
Em
Hit Oakland in 1980
F
Singin mo raps than a rap could rhyme
G
Em
Tellin sucker MC's don't
F
There's a girl I know her name is Betty
G
Em
Straight to the head just
F
She's so freaky she'll juice you up
Em
All the home boys just can't
F
She's a Ph.D., don't even stop
Em
In the back like that goin (top, top, top)
Em
I won't say white girl,
G
Em
She's the kind of girl that
make your knees go crack
Em
F
G
Feel the beat, rock with me
Em
Let me tell you what I be
Em
F
G
I'm a MC rapper, a MC rapper
Em
A big bank roller and a cold, cold capper
Em
Em
F
Hey baby, I got this rhyme
G
Em
It's not gonna stop till the end of time
Em
F
Like rock and roll I'll play that song
G
Em
To the beat all day and all night long
Em
F
So liten up, to what I'm sayin
G
Em
I'm a Oaktown mack,
bitch I ain't playin
Em
To all the home boys doin
G
Em
Gonna rock this beat for you once again
Em
If you can't get out and
G
Em
Say beeatch, now
make it sound for real
Em
F
I'ma tear shit up, if I get the chance
G
Em
I could give a fuck less if
you're hole don't dance
Em
F
See I'm a big mack now, I'm so great
G
Em
I was born and raised
in the Golden State
Em
F
G
Call me T.O.O., if you say $hort
Em
I'ma rap my ass off till you
give me some more
Em
F
G
Big bank, now just make me rich
Em
Bitch bitch bitch bitch make me rich
Em
F
Check out my style, baby I don't quit
G
Em
Em
I heard this freak say,
"That's the shit,
Em
F
He took the cake, fucked the rake
G
Em
Too $hort baby damn
sure ain't fake."
Em
But the sucker MC's are
G
Em
Sayin Sir Too $hort, shut your mouth
Em
How can you talk about me,
G
Em
When your father smokes coke
and you mother's a freak
Em
F
So I keep on rappin, if nothin else
Em
Keep your jealous thoughts
F
G
Bitch and Bitch, he's a MC right
Em
Ain't sayin nothin but
he's holdin the mic
Em
I send a trick with a hoe
to the motel room
Em
Cause I'm the coldest MC
G
Em
Like a .357 pointed at your dome
Em
F
I got cap for cap, you never heard
G
Em
Em
So fresh again with
cusswords
F
G
Motherfuckin shit, fuckin with me
Em
Fuck a skank bitch and a sucker MC
Em
F
G
Em
Em
F
G
Cusswords, just let em
Em
know
Motherfuckin shit,
F
Cusswords, just don't quit
G
Em
Motherfuck you damn shithead bitch
Em
F
It's Too $hort, on the mic,
G
Em
and it don't stop
Em
and it don't stop, an d it won't stop,
F
G
Em
Em
beeatch
Check out my style
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