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Too Short - Buy You Some текст песни
Текст
Verse one: erick sermon
Whoo! ah ah, ayahh, ahh ahh ahh
And you dont stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond
Now introducing the sound from the ghetto
E double and too $hort, what the fuck you thought?
I come with the ruckus, its my thing when I swing
Im born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat
Who out there I swear boy wanna get touched
Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck
I talk the talk, walk the walk, now nigga
Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger
Crazy lestat, check my track record
Everything I touch is gold since eighteen years old
So what that mean? i roll the blunt
And puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minute
Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz I be rockin b
Sewin up like monopoly, nobodys stoppin me
Dig it, funkdafied like brat, hows that?
I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sack
Who said the e cant rock? thats bullshit
Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls
You wanna brawl? punk I thought not
You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch
Your girl, like keith sweat, I wanna fuck her
Psych, I already stuck her
I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up
Heres an icepack homeboy shut the hell up
I rock the mic with too $hort, yall niggaz know whats happenin
Everything he touch goes platinum
Eyeeaaaah!
Verse two: too $hort
I made a half a million in a week
And every nigga on the street got a tape playin me
You cant believe it? erick sermon, rollin with $hort
Rolled from california all the way to new york
In big benzes, g-50 up
Now we trying to squash all that east/west stuff
We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks
Signed a bunch of niggaz with some tight ass raps
Its like father dom, its like keith murray
Makin millionaires but it aint no hurry
Cuz we all in it for the long run
I wont leave the studio until a songs done
And aint nuthin really hard about gettin my cash
A big phat house with a million stash
You other niggaz got this rap game distorted
Givin dats to the label, straight gettin shorted
Claim youre gettin paid, but I cant tell
You keep rappin in my ear got me mad as hell
You talk a good game but I dont believe in you
Be smokin lotta blunts but I got more weed than you
I guess I see you on the charts in the meanwhile
Another face in the crowd plus some freestyle
Wishin you could be in the light
Promoters pay me ten gs just to breathe on the mic
Bitch! $hort dawg puttin it down with the e double
Verse three: erick sermon
Shhhhh! you remind me of my phat gold chain
Some of yall are just small change
Be a boss with true true game
Yeah yeah
Dig this yall, my music is dangerous
Atomic dog, coming through the smog with $hort dawg
Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble
I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window
Chik chik pow! how you like me now?
The man in the mirror it dont get no clearer
$hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick
Like girls in c.a.u. with the good power-u
Owww! money is the key to fame
So I can live it up with the girls on soul train
The impact, major league dough like dave justice
Yo breed, $hort dawg, show em how we bust this
Verse four: too $hort, mc breed, kool ace
Like some true pioneers, dont forget it
Put the money on the table, lets split it
We got enough gs here to make us both happy
Tell them fans we aint runnin no coke factory
Its $hort dawg the real pimp of the century
Girls get wet every time somebody mention me
I was known for my mackin back in eighty-four
I want it all, thats what I keep stackin for
Have things that a rapper never dreamed of havin
And I can tell them how to get it just keep rappin
Lifes a battle, headed for the new sun
So many ways to get paid, you got ta choose one
Now some of the ways to get paid out is runnin your mouth
That street life will keep me tight, Im talkin bout
Gettin green, dolla dolla bills yall
Thats on the real, somethin you can feel yall
Many claim to have game but you can get that on sale
But aint nuthin they sellin to you but arbor and gail
I mean sprinkle me homey cuz Im bout dollars and cents
And if you aint haulin dollars well you aint holler
In flintid rather dip dip dive, so-socialize
Get loot from the great lakes, west to eastside
You tramp, trick, hach I spit
Undergrade if you aint gettin paid like this
The hours of the atl paves my name
Spittin mr. macker izzer are you still in the game
See I gets paid by the movement of the cut
Ive been summoned by the cancer, to testify and bless
Its that, big mack, like scripture is a phat kodeje?
So hide your hoe from me
Southern am-bassador, knockin at your door
Leadin a click thats true, checkin knowin all fifty-two
See, all you tricks, best behave
Its that southern nigga mack from the city of the brave
I got the platinum caul, yes yes yall
So plant me with the green and them hoes and we can big ball
Yeah, now we rollin four deep
Double dosin, relaxin, and maxin to $hort and these beats
E double, $hort dawg, kool ace
In the place, and be all but bring you straight horror
Representin money
Buy you some nigga
Whoo! ah ah, ayahh, ahh ahh ahh
And you dont stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond
Now introducing the sound from the ghetto
E double and too $hort, what the fuck you thought?
I come with the ruckus, its my thing when I swing
Im born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat
Who out there I swear boy wanna get touched
Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck
I talk the talk, walk the walk, now nigga
Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger
Crazy lestat, check my track record
Everything I touch is gold since eighteen years old
So what that mean? i roll the blunt
And puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minute
Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz I be rockin b
Sewin up like monopoly, nobodys stoppin me
Dig it, funkdafied like brat, hows that?
I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sack
Who said the e cant rock? thats bullshit
Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls
You wanna brawl? punk I thought not
You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch
Your girl, like keith sweat, I wanna fuck her
Psych, I already stuck her
I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up
Heres an icepack homeboy shut the hell up
I rock the mic with too $hort, yall niggaz know whats happenin
Everything he touch goes platinum
Eyeeaaaah!
Verse two: too $hort
I made a half a million in a week
And every nigga on the street got a tape playin me
You cant believe it? erick sermon, rollin with $hort
Rolled from california all the way to new york
In big benzes, g-50 up
Now we trying to squash all that east/west stuff
We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks
Signed a bunch of niggaz with some tight ass raps
Its like father dom, its like keith murray
Makin millionaires but it aint no hurry
Cuz we all in it for the long run
I wont leave the studio until a songs done
And aint nuthin really hard about gettin my cash
A big phat house with a million stash
You other niggaz got this rap game distorted
Givin dats to the label, straight gettin shorted
Claim youre gettin paid, but I cant tell
You keep rappin in my ear got me mad as hell
You talk a good game but I dont believe in you
Be smokin lotta blunts but I got more weed than you
I guess I see you on the charts in the meanwhile
Another face in the crowd plus some freestyle
Wishin you could be in the light
Promoters pay me ten gs just to breathe on the mic
Bitch! $hort dawg puttin it down with the e double
Verse three: erick sermon
Shhhhh! you remind me of my phat gold chain
Some of yall are just small change
Be a boss with true true game
Yeah yeah
Dig this yall, my music is dangerous
Atomic dog, coming through the smog with $hort dawg
Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble
I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window
Chik chik pow! how you like me now?
The man in the mirror it dont get no clearer
$hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick
Like girls in c.a.u. with the good power-u
Owww! money is the key to fame
So I can live it up with the girls on soul train
The impact, major league dough like dave justice
Yo breed, $hort dawg, show em how we bust this
Verse four: too $hort, mc breed, kool ace
Like some true pioneers, dont forget it
Put the money on the table, lets split it
We got enough gs here to make us both happy
Tell them fans we aint runnin no coke factory
Its $hort dawg the real pimp of the century
Girls get wet every time somebody mention me
I was known for my mackin back in eighty-four
I want it all, thats what I keep stackin for
Have things that a rapper never dreamed of havin
And I can tell them how to get it just keep rappin
Lifes a battle, headed for the new sun
So many ways to get paid, you got ta choose one
Now some of the ways to get paid out is runnin your mouth
That street life will keep me tight, Im talkin bout
Gettin green, dolla dolla bills yall
Thats on the real, somethin you can feel yall
Many claim to have game but you can get that on sale
But aint nuthin they sellin to you but arbor and gail
I mean sprinkle me homey cuz Im bout dollars and cents
And if you aint haulin dollars well you aint holler
In flintid rather dip dip dive, so-socialize
Get loot from the great lakes, west to eastside
You tramp, trick, hach I spit
Undergrade if you aint gettin paid like this
The hours of the atl paves my name
Spittin mr. macker izzer are you still in the game
See I gets paid by the movement of the cut
Ive been summoned by the cancer, to testify and bless
Its that, big mack, like scripture is a phat kodeje?
So hide your hoe from me
Southern am-bassador, knockin at your door
Leadin a click thats true, checkin knowin all fifty-two
See, all you tricks, best behave
Its that southern nigga mack from the city of the brave
I got the platinum caul, yes yes yall
So plant me with the green and them hoes and we can big ball
Yeah, now we rollin four deep
Double dosin, relaxin, and maxin to $hort and these beats
E double, $hort dawg, kool ace
In the place, and be all but bring you straight horror
Representin money
Buy you some nigga
Исполнитель: Too Short