Too $hort (too Short) - Paystyle (Bosko's instrumental) lyrics

Aww hell nah n***a We ain't doin no freestyles Don't even know how to do that sh** *chuckling* Yeah whatevah Check it out man, check this one out I been rappin for half my life I'm twenty-eight now sayin pa** the mic If you eighteen or nineteen speak up fool I was born on the mic before you went to school Talkin bout pimp sh**, you know wha**up I wonder if you mom'll let you play that stuff Now you're flowin like your name is water But I'm ten years older and my game is harder I'm not tryin to say you're out there dissin I'm just tryin to say lil n***a listen Before you grab the mic and act wild Bitin on the next n***a's mackin style And it's all from head, pa**in round the mic Never even care who you sounded like Sound like Snoop Dogg, then you switched to Treach Bit the Pharcyde then A Tribe Called Quest And you gots no respect for me, is that right? Well jump your a** on the train witcha backpack tight And keep rappin, I'm floatin past all the stops In a clean a** Benz I have all the props F**k credit from a rapper can you match my Visa I heard your girlfriend was a real dick pleaser And a Too $hort fan, faithfully When I came to your town she couldn't wait to see me To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on cause I don't stop rappin To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on cause I don't stop rappin Let me tell you somethin bout a n***a named Short Rappers always talk about the way I can't flow But let me hit the mall with the same MC's I be signin autographs, spend a gang of G's While you walkin round broke, nobody knows ya Lookin like you smoked a whole sack of doja Outside in the parking lot in front of the cars Standin in a circle with some wannabe stars Freestylin, but you ain't original You just shootin everything and you pimpin hoes And to think you could hang with me I never would spit this game for free I'm the T-double-O, S-H, O-R-T I rock all stages and any parties Any my style is gettin bank Gettin head, gettin hella dank I drop my top when it's hot and sunny So how you talk sh** when you ain't havin no money I set trends in the rap game b**h And gives a f**k when other rappers talk sh** I know you motherf**kers, heard me rap So hard, I put your momma in my dirty rap No sh**, the old b**h s**ed a damn good dick Put them legs up high she couldn't handle it I'm not a no good punk, I coulda macked your mother But Life is Too $hort, so I kept it undercover Now you're all grown up, with your partners rappin But old Short Dawg'll your a** what happened To a fake MC, who tried to get with me I ended his career, instantly And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on cause I don't stop rappin And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on cause I don't stop rappin Now let's compare the lifestyles, of me and you You're phony and I'm all about bein true You drive a bucket, that you bought for a G I ride around snuffin them fo'-eighteens In the back of a motherf**kin big a** truck Jump two rows back and get my dick s**ed Benzos, Lexus, Rolex and Caddy Fine lil b**hes havin s** with Daddy I ain't givin no b**h, no kind of slack You got one girl then treat the hoe like a mack What's yours is hers, she don't trip s**er a** n***a need to check that b**h But you're so weak, and it shows in your rap I'm out here, gettin hoes livin fat While you at home, gettin sweated by your mamma I bought my mother a house in Atlanta And you can't stand it, so whaddayou say Too $hort can't rap, no f**kin way But here I am, workin in the studio And your album ain't out because you're movin slow By the time you make one I'll be on ten Hit the studio n***a, and do it again To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on cause I don't stop rappin To the beat y'all, and it don't stop It goes on cause I don't stop rappin Now ask New York, can Too $hort flow Ask Detroit, they'll let them n***as know Then ask Philly, can I rap South side of Chicago, who's the mack? I never ever tripped on the sh** that you spit about me Everytime I perform, I make a lot of G's Cause I'm paid for this motherf**kin rap sh** Eatin good like a motherf**kin fat b**h Every single day at the house what's wrong wichu Eatin fast food if you only knew I understand though, cause I been there befo' Eat any damn thing and got nowhere to go Daydreams, about bein great It all started back when I was sellin tapes In eighty-two eighty-three eighty-fo' on up Waitin still waitin just to blow on up And when it happened, I still had to wait I didn't get paid til eighty-eight I made nine albums in nine years I'm a true blue West coast pioneer Dr. Dre, Ice-T, and all the rest All that money we makin don't fault the West Cause we ain't the ones who created rap But when we made the sh**, we made it fat And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on cause I don't stop rappin And it don't stop, to the beat y'all It goes on cause I don't stop rappin BEYOTCH!