Lyrics

Aww hell, nah nigga We ain't doin' no freestyles Don't even know how to do that shit Yeah, whatever Check it out man, check this one out I been rappin' for half my life I'm twenty-eight now, sayin' pass the mic If you eighteen or nineteen speak up fool I was born on the mic before you went to school Talkin' 'bout pimp shit, you know whassup I wonder if you mom'll let you play that stuff Now you're flowin' like your name is Water But I'm ten years older and my game is harder I'm not tryin' to say you're out there dissin' I'm just tryin' to say lil' nigga listen Before you grab the mic and act wild Bitin' on the next nigga's mackin' style And it's all from head, passin' round the mic Never even care who you sounded like Sound like Snoop Dogg, then you switched to Treach Bit the Pharcyde then A Tribe Called Quest And you gots no respect for me, is that right? Well jump your ass on the train witcha backpack tight And keep rappin', I'm floatin' past all the stops In a clean ass Benz I have all the props Fuck credit from a rapper can you match my Visa I heard your girlfriend was a real dick pleaser And a Too $hort fan, faithfully When I came to your town she couldn't wait to see me To the beat y'all and it don't stop It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' Let me tell you somethin' 'bout a nigga named $hort Rappers always talk about the way I can't flow But let me hit the mall with the same MC's I be signin' autographs, spend a gang of G's While you walkin' round broke, nobody knows ya Lookin' like you smoked a whole sack of doja Outside in the parking lot in front of the cars Standin' in a circle with some wannabe stars Freestylin', but you ain't original, no You just shootin' everything and you pimpin' hoes And to think you could hang with me I never would spit this game for free I'm the T double O, S H O R T, I rock all stages and any parties Any my style is gettin' bank, gettin' head, gettin' hella dank I drop my top when it's hot and sunny So how you talk shit when you ain't havin' no money I set trends in the rap game bitch And gives a fuck when other rappers talk shit I know you motherfuckers, heard me rap So hard, I put your momma in my dirty rap No shit, the old bitch sucked a damn good dick Put them legs up high she couldn't handle it I'm not a no good punk, I coulda macked your mother But Life is Too $hort, so I kept it undercover Now you're all grown up, with your partners rappin' But old Short Dawg'll your ass what happened To a fake MC, who tried to get with me I ended his career, instantly And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' Now let's compare the lifestyles, of me and you You're phony and I'm all about bein' true You drive a bucket, that you bought for a G I ride around snuffin' them fo'-eighteens In the back of a motherfuckin' big ass truck Jump two rows back and get my dick sucked Benzos, Lexus, Rolex and Caddy Fine lil' bitches havin' sex with Daddy I ain't givin' no bitch, no kind of slack You got one girl then treat the hoe like a mack What's yours is hers, she don't trip Sucker ass nigga need to check that bitch But you're so weak and it shows in your rap I'm out here, gettin' hoes livin' fat While you at home, gettin' sweated by your mama I bought my mother a house in Atlanta And you can't stand it, so what do you say Too $hort can't rap, no fuckin' way But here I am, workin' in the studio And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow By the time you make one I'll be on ten Hit the studio nigga and do it again To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' Now ask New York, can Too $hort flow? Ask Detroit, they'll let them niggaz know Then ask Philly, can I rap? South side of Chicago, who's the mack? I never ever tripped on the shit that you spit about me Every time I perform, I make a lot of G's 'Cause I'm paid for this motherfuckin' rap shit Eatin' good like a motherfuckin' fat bitch Every single day at the house, what's wrong wichu? Eatin' fast food if you only knew I understand though, 'cause I been there befo' Eat any damn thing and got nowhere to go Daydreams, about bein' great It all started back when I was sellin' tapes In eighty-two, eighty-three eighty-fo' on up Waitin' still waitin' just to blow on up And when it happened, I still had to wait I didn't get paid till eighty-eight I made nine albums in nine years I'm a true blue West Coast pioneer Dr. Dre, Ice-T, and all the rest All that money we makin' don't fault the West 'Cause we ain't the ones who created rap But when we made the shit, we made it fat And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on 'cause I don't stop rappin' Beyotch
Writer(s): Ramon Russell Gooden, Todd Anthony Shaw, Stuart R. Jordan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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