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too hort – cuss words lyrics

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so you motherf-ckers thought
i was gonna change my style?
so what are you saying todd?
to all you b-tches, hoes and all that sh-t
here’s another rap that i’m ready to spit
it goes like this, my name is short
i’m tearin’ sh-t up like never before

pimp slaps, makin’ snaps
cold cash money and too short raps
oakland, california that’s where i’m from
the city where the boys say, you don’t want none
but if you do, i’m gonna tell you this
trues and vogues ain’t really sh-t
wanna roll so hard, all the time
you and that b-tch playin’ too short rhymes

if you aks me, what it’s all about
i’ll say it’s about that money
but if you aks me, could you have some
i’ll say it doesn’t concern me
ronald reagan came up to me
and said, “do you have the answer
to the u.s. economy
and a cure for cancer?”

i said, what are you doin’ in the white house
if you’re not sellin’ cocaine?
ask your wife, nancy reagan
i know she’ll spit that game
like one night, she came to my house
and gave me a bl-w j-b
she licked my d-ck, up and down
like it was corn on the cob

what is life? life is too short
i play the b-tches like it’s a sport
yea, i’ll play the b-tches just like y’all
like dr. j played basketball
you can call me too, don’t say it twice
you get me real mad and i’ll f-ck your wife
you see i’m not proper, i’m rarely polite
too short, too short, don’t say it tonight

it started on a bright morning in 1987
i was in my drop-top caddy y’all
gettin’ sucked by a b-tch named, helen
nasty b-tches, around the world
i wrote this rhyme for you
you might not like my rap
but i’m tellin’ you b-tch it’s true

so much death in the oakland streets
am i gonna live till next week?
will i get shot by a dope fiend
tryin’ to get high, tryin’ to steal my ring
i really can’t say, ’cause i don’t know why
people out here droppin’ dead like flies
i used to see a home boy givin’ five
now i say, “man, you still alive?”

cold as h-ll, this town i’m from
won’t last too long when you’re fakin’ the funk
i’m the master rapper, so unique
clap my hand when i want my freak
you can’t deny it, you know i’m right
i turn any rapper out when i’m on the mic
and i won’t kick back or relax
till he knows i’m the best at the mc rap

till he knows too short, set the track
they got him caught up in my serious cap
motherf-cker can’t spit straight game on the mic
’cause he’s worse than a f-g or a frisco dike
he’s a sucker mc, i call him punk
tryin’ to spit that rap, you can scratch that junk
you little punk–ss boy, wouldn’t listen to me
think i’m fakin’ but i’m takin’ all you sucker mc’s

to the end of the world and push you over
good luck couldn’t find you in a four leaf clover
if i ever said a rap, tryin’ to cap on you
i wouldn’t even sweat it ’cause you’ll be through
lookin’ so far up, you might fall down
gettin’ clowned by the hound from east oaktown
and the look in your face when you’re lickin’ that tooth
could make a grown man die, laughin’ at you

’cause you’re a, no rappin’, no rhymin’
played out fake -ss simple simon
i never understood one word you said
but you’re swearin’ up and down that you’re killin’ me dead
there’s only one thing, i wanted to know
sucker motherf-cker, where’s the joke?
i’m the player of players, just call me pop
my name is too short, no i don’t stop

i just don’t stop mackin’, don’t stop cappin’
don’t stop rappin’ now you see what happens
your mind is gone, your crew just cut
sucker mc i’ll tell you what
your rhymes are weak, your rap the same
and when it comes to game, you are lame
never even heard of too short baby
hit oakland in 1980

singin’ mo raps than a rap could rhyme
tellin’ sucker mc’s don’t waste my time
there’s a girl i know her name is betty
straight to the head just rock it steady
she’s so freaky she’ll juice you up
all the home boys just can’t get enough
she’s a ph.d., don’t even stop
in the back like that goin’, top, top, top

i won’t say white girl, won’t say she’s black
she’s the kind of girl that make your knees go crack
feel the beat, rock with me
let me tell you what i be
i’m a mc rapper, a mc rapper
a big bank roller and a cold, cold capper
hey baby, i got this rhyme
it’s not gonna stop till the end of time

like rock and roll i’ll play that song
to the beat all day and all night long
so listen up, to what i’m sayin’
i’m a oaktown mack, b-tch i ain’t playin’
to all the home boys doin’ time in the pen
gonna rock this beat for you once again
if you can’t get out and you’re mad as h-ll
say beeatch, now make it sound for real

i’ma tear sh-t up, if i get the chance
i could give a f-ck less if you’re hoe don’t dance
see i’m a big mack now, i’m so great
i was born and raised in the golden state
call me t o o, if you say short
i’ma rap my -ss off till you give me some more
big bank, now just make me rich
b-tch, b-tch, b-tch, b-tch make me rich

check out my style, baby i don’t quit
i heard this freak say, “that’s the sh-t
he took the cake, f-cked the rake
too short baby d-mn sure ain’t fake”
but the sucker mc’s are screamin’ loud
sayin’ sir too short, shut your mouth
how can you talk about me and call me weak
when your father smokes c-ke and you mother’s a freak

so i keep on rappin’, if nothin’ else
keep your jealous thoughts to yourself
b-tch and b-tch, he’s a mc right
ain’t sayin’ nothin’ but he’s holdin’ the mic
f-ck with me and boy you’re doomed
i send a trick with a hoe to the motel room
’cause i’m the coldest mc on a microphone
like a 357 pointed at your dome

i got cap for cap, you never heard
so fresh again with cusswords
motherf-ckin’ sh-t, f-ckin’ with me
f-ck a sk-nk b-tch and a sucker mc
all you b-st-rds, got the claps
and f-ck you punk ’cause you still can’t rap
cusswords, just let ’em know
motherf-ckin’ sh-t, godd-mn -ss hoe

cusswords, just don’t quit
motherf-ck you d-mn sh-thead b-tch
it’s too short, on the mic and it don’t stop
and it don’t stop, and it won’t stop, beeatch
check out my style

- too hort lyrics

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