Too Short - Cusswords Lyrics
So you mother*****ers thought I was gonna change my style?- so what are you saying todd?To all you *****es, hoes, and all that shitHeres another rap that Im ready to spitIt goes like this, my name is $hortIm tearin shit up like never beforePimp slaps, makin snapsCold cash money and too $hort rapsOakland, california thats where Im fromThe city where the boys say you dont want noneBut if you do, Im gonna tell you this( ) aint really shitWanna roll so hard, all of the timeYou and that ***** playin too $hort rhymesIf you aks me, what its all about, Ill say its about that moneyBut if you aks me, could you have some, Ill say it doesnt concern meRonald reagan came up to me and said, do you have the answerTo the united states economy and a cure for cancer?I said, what are you doin in the white house if youre not sellin cocaine?Ask your wife, nancy reagan, I know shell spit that game.Like one night, she came to my house, and gave me a blow jobShe licked my dick, up and down, like it was corn on the cobWhat is life? it is too $hortI play the *****es like its a sportYea, Ill play the *****es just like yallLike dr. j played basketballYou can call me too, dont say it twiceYoull get me real mad and Ill ***** your wifeYou see Im not proper, Im rarely politeToo $hort, too $hort, dont say it tonight, beeatchIt started on a bright morning in 1987I was in my drop-to caddy yallGettin sucked by a ***** named helenNasty *****es, around the world, I wrote this rhyme for youYou might not like my rap, but Im tellin you ***** its trueSo much death in the oakland streetsAm I gonna live till next week?Will I get shot by a dope fiend,Tryin to get high, tryin to steal my ringI really cant say, cause I dont know whyPeople out here droppin dead like fliesI used to see a home boy givin fiveNow I say, man, you still alive?Cold as hell, the town Im fromWont last too long when youre fakin the funkIm the master rapper, so uniqueClap my hand when I want my freakYou cant deny it, you know Im rightI turn any rapper out when Im on the micAnd I wont kick back, or relaxTill he knows Im the best at the mc rapTill he knows too short, set the trackThey got him caught up in my serious capMother*****er cant spit straight game on the micCause hes worse than a fag or a frisco dikeHes a sucker mc, I call him punkYou try to spit that rap, you can scratch that junkYou little punk-ass boy, wouldnt listen to meThink Im fakin but Im takin all you sucker mcsTo the end of the world and push you overGood luck couldnt find you in a four leaf cloverIf I ever said a rap, tryin to cap on you,I wouldnt even sweat it cause youll be throughLookin so far up, you might fall downGettin clowned by the hound from east oaktownAnd the look in your face when youre lickin that toothCould make a grown man die, laughin at youCause youre a, no rappin, no rhyminPlayed out fake ass simple simonI never understood one word you saidBut youre swearin up and down that youre killin em deadTheres only one thing, I wanted to knowSucker mother*****er, wheres the joke?Im the player of players, just call me popMy name is too $hort, no I dont stopI just dont stop mackin, dont stop cappinDont stop rappin now you see what happensYour mind is gone, your crew just cutSucker mc Ill tell you whatYour rhymes are weak, your rap the sameAnd when it comes to game, you are lameNever even heard of too $hort babyHit oakland in 1980Singin mo raps than a rap could rhymeTellin sucker mcs dont waste my timeTheres a girl I know her name is bettyStraight to the head just rock it steadyShes so freaky shell juice you upAll the home boys just cant get enoughShes a ph.d., dont even stopIn the back like that goin (top, top, top)I wont say white girl, wont say shes blackShes the kind of girl that make your knees go crackFeel the beat, rock with meLet me tell you what I beIm a mc rapper, a mc rapperA big bank roller and a cold, cold capperHey baby, I got this rhymeIts not gonna stop till the end of timeLike rock and roll Ill play that songTo the beat all day and all night longSo liten up, to what Im sayinIm a oaktown mack, ***** I aint playinTo all the home boys doin time in the penGonna rock this beat for you once againIf you cant get out and youre mad as hellSay beeatch, now make it sound for realIma tear shit up, if I get the chanceI could give a ***** less if youre hole dont danceSee Im a big mack now, Im so greatI was born and raised in the golden stateCall me t.o.o., if you say $hortIma rap my ass off till you give me some moreBig bank, now just make me rich***** ***** ***** ***** make me richCheck out my style, baby I dont quitI heard this freak say, thats the shit,He took the cake, *****ed the rakeToo $hort baby damn sure aint fake.But the sucker mcs are screamin loudSayin sir too $hort, shut your mouthHow can you talk about me, and call me weakWhen your father smokes coke and you mothers a freakSo I keep on rappin, if nothin elseKeep your jealous thoughts to yourself***** and *****, hes a mc rightAint sayin nothin but hes holdin the mic***** with me, and boy youre doomedI send a trick with a hoe to the motel roomCause Im the coldest mc on a microphoneLike a .357 pointed at your domeI got cap for cap, you never heardSo fresh again with cusswordsMother*****in shit, *****in with me***** a skank ***** and a sucker mcCusswords, just let em knowMother*****in shit, God damn ass hoeCusswords, just dont quitMother***** you damn shithead *****Its too $hort, on the mic, and it dont stopAnd it dont stop, and it wont stop, beeatchCheck out my style
