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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
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Текст (слова) песни: Too $hort - Short Dog`s in the House

I heard there was a rumor Too $hort was dead
Walked in the house and got shot in the head
I know you don`t believe it, if you do you`re wrong
How can I die and rock it all night long?
I`m Too $hort baby, spit that rap
I put Oakland, California on the map
It`s so hard, got you telling lies
Can`t hold me back so you say I died
It`s incredible, I came back to life
I never let `em bury me without my mic
I keep breathing, don`t stop that breath
Now everybody`s talking about Too $hort`s death
Am I a zombie, or something close?
I`m not Casper, I mack all the ghosts
Oaktown style is the only way
I catch a new freak every day
It`s not the Yellow Brick Road, it`s called the Foothill Strip
Stand on your toes, make your heels go click
Three times, it`s no place like home
So why you wanna bury me all alone
I bring a new meaning to underground rap
Dead or Alive, I`m still Born to Mack
Always on the pop charts, straight rapping
I`m not dead, I`m just macking

So as the word turns, I`m a living soul
I even heard a rumor that I overdosed
I`m not a reincarnation of something old
Like King Tut I was buried in gold
Why you wanna cry when I`m still living?
Word got out and the rumors started spreading
My momma, called one night
Said "Todd, are you all right?
The whole family`s got the Too $hort blues
I heard it last night on the evening news"
And that`s bad, it`s not even true
I told my momma like this "Let`s sue"
So many times, I heard I died
I guess I`m like a cat and I got nine lives
Well I`m the P-L-A, Y-E-R
I lay bunnies, like Hugh Heffner
I`m her flavor, kinda saucy
I lay back and let the young freak toss me
Even if she don`t like serving a pimp
I`m still living, so let`s do it again
I keep rapping, hard as hell
Cause your rumors make my records sell
If you continue, I`ll soon be rich
Riding around town going "Biiiitch!"

People always say "Too $hort can`t rap"
Now I drive a Benz and my bank is fat
It`s like crap, put a "c" on a rhyme
Ain`t nothing left homie but a scandalous crime
I`m the best damn rapper you could ever hate
Say I died on the freeway in the earthquake
Say I`m washed up, say I`m through
But the fact still stands I`m better than you
You got rhymes? Well I got more
I take you on a trip to my rappin` store
You find rhymes and raps, poems and caps
Way more raps than any rapper could rap
Cause if you rap like me, he wouldn`t have to be
Weak on the mic like my boy MC
It don`t stop, to the funky beat
I know you like dancing with a real big freak
I can`t dance, but I sure can rhyme
I sold a million, in `89
And if you didn`t know baby, it`s the 90`s now
Old Short Dog got a new breakdown
I went to Miko`s, fresh candy paint
Now I`m doing things that the suckers can`t
If I was dead, they`d call it "Dead Man`s Rap"
But on the real, Short Dog is back

Funk funky, off the Parliament
I`m still living, so let`s do it again
It`s incredible, even if I die
I never let `em bury me without my mic
I bring a new meaning, to underground rap
Dead or alive, I`m still Born to Mack
I say "What`s up" to my homies in Santa Rita
Right about now I know you need a
Too $hort rhyme to get you through the day
Oaktown style is the only way
I came up, and now I`ve sworn
To rock this mic til I can`t no more
And that`s game, straight pop the most
MC rapper from the West Coast
Too $hort, dead or alive
I still chill on the Eastside
Cause I remember how it all began
House parties in East Oakland
Now it`s on the pop charts, still rapping
I`m not dead, I`m just macking

 

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