Where them naked hoes at?
E-Feezy!
Too $heezy!
We off the heezy fa sheezy baby
Off the heezy, I thought you theezy
Niggas ain’t havin’ no cheezy like us, mayne
They ain’t havin no raveez! Ya know? Shit
Haha, know what I’m sayin’?
Where K-Ceezy at man? Tell him sing that shit
Lace them fools or somethin’
Biatch
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Every day, you’re at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin’ that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
I put my mack hand down, ain’t never been a Sim’
I was havin’ B-R-E-A-D way before this rap game, nigga, been tim’
Thought you theezy, fa sheezy, niggas ‘member
Earl, Brandt and Danell, them boys from Vallejo
At every light it’s automatic, burn rubber
See my folkers in the traffic, wassupper?
Follow that cab it got dope in it, uh
My nigga $hort got some hoes in it
I’m always hearin’ rappers big ballin’ on they songs
I do that shit for real and you will never say I’m wrong
S-500 straight sittin’ on 20’s
TV in the dash, pimpin’ hoes, gettin’ money
I’m Too $hort, baby, been down since the ’80s
For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes
Lexus, trucks, drop ‘Vette, Caddy
Bitches don’t call me by my name, they call me daddy
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Every day, you’re at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin’ that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
K-Ci, $hort and 40 Fonzarelli
I’ll probably never have long money like Ross Perelli
But shit, we just want a help, don’t want the whole plate
Don’t put the two on the ten, don’t ever perpetrate
Like a lot of these fools I see on TV with the Armani
Chanel versus Versace, why motherfuckers can’t be broke sometimes?
Sometimes it’s cool to floss
But don’t buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car before you buy a house
They always said I couldn’t rap, I just say bitch
I guess the bitch, made me rich
And now you wanna call me hardcore
While I be steppin’ out the shower on a marble floor
I pay the IRS taxes, send FedEx and faxes
This industry is like fuckin’ fat bitches
All work and no play, I do it every day
Anyway ’cause I gotta stay paid, 40
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Every day, you’re at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin’ that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
We throw parties on big-ass boats, niggas ’bout they paper
Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica
Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, Shamrock and Severn
Long expensive fa-uh-flights, up there in the heavens
Fat ass royalty checks, fat-ass cribs
Smokin’ blunts and drinkin’ brew on the balcony, barbecuin’ ribs
The more scrilla, the merrier
I represent the Yay Area
I walked from Foothill and Havenscourt to 67th, MacArthur
To Freddie B house to make tapes with my partner
Hit Arroyo Park, we had tapes for sale
Got a paper bag full of that, can’t you tell
It’s funky, everybody nod they head like this
I said bitch, and everybody read my lips
I got rich, suckin’ up the game from the O
And even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow
I survived ’cause I got mo’ game than them
It came straight from the prostitutes, players, and pimps
It was my destiny, I came the same every time
So don’t question me, I transferred the game into rhymes
I’m not a freestyler, don’t rap for free, mayne
It’s paystyle on mine, ’cause I love money, mayne
Land Rovers and Toyota, Lexuses
600 V-12 with them big-ass motor Mercedeses
We don’t be savin’ hoes, bitches be savin’ us
Bitch disrespect me in my car, bitch best to catch the bus
I keep a briefcase full of game, while y’all be ear-hustlin’
Ain’t no paperback pimpin’, nigga, we ain’t strugglin’
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Every day, you’re at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin’ that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
I’m Shorty the Pimp, I come funky
Again and again, they say when will it end?
Maybe never, ’cause I can still spit it
But I ain’t rappin’ for cheese, I want meal tickets
Gotta start somewhere, and I’m past that
For the right scratch, I’ll be the last mack
So stick yaself, Pretty Tony
You tryin’ to make a hit, but your shit sounds phony
Not like AT&T but like ET
You can’t be me, so would you please see
If you can keep my name out your mouth
‘Cause you don’t really know what the game’s all about
It’s ’bout feedin’ the family, not freakin’ in the Benz
Instead of rentin’, pay for that roof on your head
And stop pimpin’ in your own mind, knowin’ you a trick
Put your hustle down, playa, go and hit you a lick
Bitch
That’s ritt
Too $heezy, Ant Banks, 40 Fonzarelli, K-Ci
Damn, is that right?
That’s right
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