It Dont Stop Lyrics by Too Short

It Dont Stop Lyrics

    Funky fresh on the muthafuckin microphone
    Bitch

    And it don't stop
    To the beat, baby

    Oakland, california is in the house
    Bitch

    [ verse 1 ]
    I tell you, nobody does it better than too
    I got so many raps, i know you can't have more
    Cause i grew up on the mic, i spent my whole life
    Writin raps, late at night
    And i never would make no fake lp's
    Sucker mc's don't make no g's
    They make weak, weak raps, and need to quit
    22 songs, and only 3 on hit
    Frontin on me like you want some
    Better sell a million records, go platinum
    Cause i wouldn't waste my time on a one-rap rapper
    You wanna get with me, you gotta climb that ladder
    But you ain't nothin but a joke
    Rappers make money, tell me why are you broke?
    We get paid like a muthafucka, and we get
    A brand-new house full of brand-new shit
    A brand-new car in my brand-new driveway
    I always keep the top down on the highway
    Too , baby, known everywhere
    Had a life-long dream to be a player
    Way too cold at a younger age
    It was everyday, 'just make that pay'
    12 years later, still in the game
    And you never talk down on a player's name
    Cause i'm (too , too )

    [ verse 2 ]
    You see, i'm fresh like always with funky beats
    I say what's up to the brothers on 10th street
    It's goin down in the oakland town
    Home of the infamous too sound
    So keep your jealous-ass thoughts in your diary
    And if you're lookin for a leader, you can hire me
    And if your so-called boss don't pay
    The only thing you need to say
    Is "i quit, i'm through with you"
    Pack up your raps, and join the dangerous crew
    We got mo' beats than the average joe
    And a 24-track studio
    So forget what you heard, and we'll see it's on
    Oakland, california can't leave me alone
    Cause i'm the most rappin, most rhymin
    Sold my drop-top, but i'm still high-sidin
    I'm (too , too )

    [ verse 3 ]
    Now that i've established my career
    I wanna help some other brothers out here
    Hook em up and let em make some dough
    Flip benzes and turn out shows
    Cause oakland got talent, fool
    Mc's in elementary school
    Not to mention musicians and singers
    And shorty b with his magical fingers
    We get funky like skunk weed
    Light it up, hit it, and get keed
    This dopefiend beat will get you high
    If it don't go gold too soon, i'll cry
    If the bass ain't deep, somethin's wrong
    It must not be a real too song
    Cause the first thing i do when i make my tape
    Is drop a few kicks from my 808
    And when my tapes hit the store, they sell so quick
    You can tell by my big fat royalty check
    It's just a dangerous thing when i'm on the mic
    And the local police don't even like
    The way we hit your town, it's so funny
    It's all about makin big money
    So before i go, you should remember this
    Muthafuck you, damn shithead bitch
    Cause i'm (too , too )

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