Cusswords Lyrics
| Song | Cusswords |
| Artist | Too Short |
| Album | Life Is...Too Short |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Shaw | |
| So you motherfuckers thought | |
| I was gonna change my style? | |
| So what are you saying | |
| Todd?To all you bitches, hoes, and all that shit | |
| Here's another rap that | |
| I'm ready to spit | |
| It goes like this, my name is $hort | |
| I'm tearin' shit up like never before | |
| Pimp slaps, makin' snaps | |
| Cold cash money and | |
| Too $hort raps | |
| Oakland, California that's where | |
| I'm fromThe city where the boys say you don't want none | |
| But if you do, | |
| I'm gonna tell you this | |
| Trues and vogues ain't really shit | |
| Wanna roll so hard, all of the time | |
| You and that bitch playin' | |
| Too $hort rhymes | |
| If you ask me, what it's all about, | |
| I'll say it's about that money | |
| But if you ask me, could you have some, | |
| I'll say it doesn't concern me | |
| Ronald Reagan came up to me and said, "Do you have the answerTo the U.S. economy and a cure for cancer?" | |
| I said, what are you doin' in the | |
| White House | |
| If you're not sellin' cocaine? | |
| Ask your wife, | |
| Nancy Reagan, | |
| I know she'll spit that game | |
| Like one night, she came to my house, and gave me a blow job | |
| She licked my dick, up and down, like it was corn on the cob | |
| What is life? | |
| Life is Too $hort | |
| I play the bitches like it's a sport | |
| Yeah, I'll play the bitches just like y'all | |
| Like Dr. J played basketball | |
| You can call me | |
| Too, don't say it twice | |
| You'll get me real mad and | |
| I'll fuck your wife | |
| You see I'm not proper, | |
| I'm rarely polite | |
| Too $hort, | |
| Too $hort, don't say it tonight, bitch | |
| It started on a bright morning in 1987 | |
| I was in my drop to | |
| Caddy y'all gettin' sucked by a bitch named | |
| HelenNasty bitches, around the world, | |
| I wrote this rhyme for you | |
| You might not like my rap, but | |
| I'm tellin' you bitch it's true | |
| So much death in the | |
| Oakland streets | |
| Am I gonna live till next week? | |
| Will I get shot by a dope fiend | |
| Tryin' to get high, tryin' to steal my ring | |
| I really can't say, 'cause | |
| I don't know why | |
| People out here droppin' dead like flies | |
| I used to see a home boy givin' five | |
| Now I say, "Man, you're still alive?" | |
| Cold as hell, the town | |
| I'm fromWon't last too long when you're fakin' the funk | |
| I'm the master rapper, so unique | |
| Clap my hand when | |
| I want my freak | |
| You can't deny it, you know | |
| I'm rightI turn any rapper out when | |
| I'm on the mic | |
| And I won't kick back, or relax | |
| Till he knows | |
| I'm the best at the | |
| MC rapTill he knows | |
| Too $hort, set the track | |
| They got him caught up in my serious cap | |
| Motherfucker can't spit straight game on the mic' | |
| Cause he's worse than a fag or a | |
| Frisco dike | |
| He's a sucker | |
| MC, I call him punk | |
| Tryin' to spit that rap, you can scratch that junk | |
| You little punk-ass boy, wouldn't listen to me | |
| Think I'm fakin' but | |
| I'm takin' all you sucker | |
| MC'sTo the end of the world and push you over | |
| Good luck couldn't find you in a four leaf clover | |
| If I ever said a rap, tryin' to cap on you | |
| I wouldn't even sweat it 'cause you'll be through | |
| Lookin' so far up, you might fall down | |
| Gettin' clowned by the hound from east | |
| OaktownAnd the look in your face when you're lickin' that tooth | |
| Could make a grown man die, laughin' at you' | |
| Cause you're a, no rappin', no rhymin' | |
| Played out fake ass | |
| Simple Simon | |
| I never understood one word you said | |
| But you're swearin' up and down that you're killin' 'em dead | |
| There's only one thing, | |
| I wanted to know | |
| Sucker motherfucker, where's the joke? | |
| I'm the player of players, just call me | |
| PopMy name is | |
| Too $hort, no | |
| I don't stop | |
| I just don't stop mackin', don't stop cappin' | |
| Don't stop rappin' now you see what happens | |
| Your mind is gone, your crew just cut | |
| Sucker MC | |
| I'll tell you what | |
| Your rhymes are weak, your rap the same | |
| And when it comes to game, you are lame | |
| Never even heard of | |
| Too $hort baby | |
| Hit Oakland in 1980 | |
| Singin' mo' raps than a rap could rhyme | |
| Tellin' sucker | |
| MC's don't waste my time | |
| There's a girl | |
| I know her name is | |
| BettyStraight to the head just rock it steady | |
| She's so freaky she'll juice you up | |
| All the home boys just can't get enough | |
| She's a Ph. | |
| D., don't even stop | |
| In the back like that goin', top, top, top | |
| I won't say white girl, won't say she's black | |
| She's the kind of girl that make your knees go crack | |
| Feel the beat, rock with me | |
| Let me tell you what | |
| I beI'm a | |
| MC rapper, a | |
| MC rapperA big bank roller and a cold, cold capper | |
| Hey baby, | |
| I got this rhyme | |
| It's not gonna stop till the end of time | |
| Like rock and roll | |
| I'll play that song | |
| To the beat all day and all night long | |
| So liten up, to what | |
| I'm sayin' | |
| I'm a Oaktown mack, bitch | |
| I ain't playin' | |
| To all the home boys doin' time in the pen | |
| Gonna rock this beat for you once again | |
| If you can't get out and you're mad as hell | |
| Say bitch, now make it sound for real | |
| I'ma tear shit up, if | |
| I get the chance | |
| I could give a fuck less if you're hole don't dance | |
| See I'm a big mack now, | |
| I'm so great | |
| I was born and raised in the | |
| Golden State | |
| Call me T | |
| O O, if you say $hort | |
| I'ma rap my ass off till you give me some more | |
| Big bank, now just make me rich | |
| Bitch bitch bitch bitch make me rich | |
| Check out my style, baby | |
| I don't quit | |
| I heard this freak say, "That's the shit" | |
| He took the cake, fucked the rake | |
| Too $hort baby damn sure ain't fake | |
| But the sucker | |
| MC's are screamin' loud | |
| Sayin' Sir | |
| Too $hort, shut your mouth | |
| How can you talk about me, and call me weak | |
| When your father smokes coke and you mother's a freak | |
| So I keep on rappin', if nothin' else | |
| Keep your jealous thoughts to yourself | |
| Bitch and bitch, he's a | |
| MC rightAin't sayin' nothin' but he's holdin' the mic | |
| Fuck with me, and boy you're doomed | |
| I send a trick with a hoe to the motel room' | |
| Cause I'm the coldest | |
| MC on a microphone | |
| Like a 357 pointed at your dome | |
| I got cap for cap, you never heard | |
| So fresh again with cusswords | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, fuckin' with me | |
| Fuck a skank bitch and a sucker | |
| MCAll you bastards got the claps | |
| And fuck you punk 'cause you still can't rap | |
| Cusswords, just let 'em know | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, goddamn ass hoe | |
| Cusswords, just don't quit | |
| Motherfuck you damn shithead bitch | |
| It's Too $hort, on the mic, and it don't stop | |
| And it don't stop, and it won't stop, bitch | |
| Check out my style |
| zuo ci : Shaw | |
| So you motherfuckers thought | |
| I was gonna change my style? | |
| So what are you saying | |
| Todd? To all you bitches, hoes, and all that shit | |
| Here' s another rap that | |
| I' m ready to spit | |
| It goes like this, my name is hort | |
| I' m tearin' shit up like never before | |
| Pimp slaps, makin' snaps | |
| Cold cash money and | |
| Too hort raps | |
| Oakland, California that' s where | |
| I' m fromThe city where the boys say you don' t want none | |
| But if you do, | |
| I' m gonna tell you this | |
| Trues and vogues ain' t really shit | |
| Wanna roll so hard, all of the time | |
| You and that bitch playin' | |
| Too hort rhymes | |
| If you ask me, what it' s all about, | |
| I' ll say it' s about that money | |
| But if you ask me, could you have some, | |
| I' ll say it doesn' t concern me | |
| Ronald Reagan came up to me and said, " Do you have the answerTo the U. S. economy and a cure for cancer?" | |
| I said, what are you doin' in the | |
| White House | |
| If you' re not sellin' cocaine? | |
| Ask your wife, | |
| Nancy Reagan, | |
| I know she' ll spit that game | |
| Like one night, she came to my house, and gave me a blow job | |
| She licked my dick, up and down, like it was corn on the cob | |
| What is life? | |
| Life is Too hort | |
| I play the bitches like it' s a sport | |
| Yeah, I' ll play the bitches just like y' all | |
| Like Dr. J played basketball | |
| You can call me | |
| Too, don' t say it twice | |
| You' ll get me real mad and | |
| I' ll fuck your wife | |
| You see I' m not proper, | |
| I' m rarely polite | |
| Too hort, | |
| Too hort, don' t say it tonight, bitch | |
| It started on a bright morning in 1987 | |
| I was in my drop to | |
| Caddy y' all gettin' sucked by a bitch named | |
| HelenNasty bitches, around the world, | |
| I wrote this rhyme for you | |
| You might not like my rap, but | |
| I' m tellin' you bitch it' s true | |
| So much death in the | |
| Oakland streets | |
| Am I gonna live till next week? | |
| Will I get shot by a dope fiend | |
| Tryin' to get high, tryin' to steal my ring | |
| I really can' t say, ' cause | |
| I don' t know why | |
| People out here droppin' dead like flies | |
| I used to see a home boy givin' five | |
| Now I say, " Man, you' re still alive?" | |
| Cold as hell, the town | |
| I' m fromWon' t last too long when you' re fakin' the funk | |
| I' m the master rapper, so unique | |
| Clap my hand when | |
| I want my freak | |
| You can' t deny it, you know | |
| I' m rightI turn any rapper out when | |
| I' m on the mic | |
| And I won' t kick back, or relax | |
| Till he knows | |
| I' m the best at the | |
| MC rapTill he knows | |
| Too hort, set the track | |
| They got him caught up in my serious cap | |
| Motherfucker can' t spit straight game on the mic' | |
| Cause he' s worse than a fag or a | |
| Frisco dike | |
| He' s a sucker | |
| MC, I call him punk | |
| Tryin' to spit that rap, you can scratch that junk | |
| You little punkass boy, wouldn' t listen to me | |
| Think I' m fakin' but | |
| I' m takin' all you sucker | |
| MC' sTo the end of the world and push you over | |
| Good luck couldn' t find you in a four leaf clover | |
| If I ever said a rap, tryin' to cap on you | |
| I wouldn' t even sweat it ' cause you' ll be through | |
| Lookin' so far up, you might fall down | |
| Gettin' clowned by the hound from east | |
| OaktownAnd the look in your face when you' re lickin' that tooth | |
| Could make a grown man die, laughin' at you' | |
| Cause you' re a, no rappin', no rhymin' | |
| Played out fake ass | |
| Simple Simon | |
| I never understood one word you said | |
| But you' re swearin' up and down that you' re killin' ' em dead | |
| There' s only one thing, | |
| I wanted to know | |
| Sucker motherfucker, where' s the joke? | |
| I' m the player of players, just call me | |
| PopMy name is | |
| Too hort, no | |
| I don' t stop | |
| I just don' t stop mackin', don' t stop cappin' | |
| Don' t stop rappin' now you see what happens | |
| Your mind is gone, your crew just cut | |
| Sucker MC | |
| I' ll tell you what | |
| Your rhymes are weak, your rap the same | |
| And when it comes to game, you are lame | |
| Never even heard of | |
| Too hort baby | |
| Hit Oakland in 1980 | |
| Singin' mo' raps than a rap could rhyme | |
| Tellin' sucker | |
| MC' s don' t waste my time | |
| There' s a girl | |
| I know her name is | |
| BettyStraight to the head just rock it steady | |
| She' s so freaky she' ll juice you up | |
| All the home boys just can' t get enough | |
| She' s a Ph. | |
| D., don' t even stop | |
| In the back like that goin', top, top, top | |
| I won' t say white girl, won' t say she' s black | |
| She' s the kind of girl that make your knees go crack | |
| Feel the beat, rock with me | |
| Let me tell you what | |
| I beI' m a | |
| MC rapper, a | |
| MC rapperA big bank roller and a cold, cold capper | |
| Hey baby, | |
| I got this rhyme | |
| It' s not gonna stop till the end of time | |
| Like rock and roll | |
| I' ll play that song | |
| To the beat all day and all night long | |
| So liten up, to what | |
| I' m sayin' | |
| I' m a Oaktown mack, bitch | |
| I ain' t playin' | |
| To all the home boys doin' time in the pen | |
| Gonna rock this beat for you once again | |
| If you can' t get out and you' re mad as hell | |
| Say bitch, now make it sound for real | |
| I' ma tear shit up, if | |
| I get the chance | |
| I could give a fuck less if you' re hole don' t dance | |
| See I' m a big mack now, | |
| I' m so great | |
| I was born and raised in the | |
| Golden State | |
| Call me T | |
| O O, if you say hort | |
| I' ma rap my ass off till you give me some more | |
| Big bank, now just make me rich | |
| Bitch bitch bitch bitch make me rich | |
| Check out my style, baby | |
| I don' t quit | |
| I heard this freak say, " That' s the shit" | |
| He took the cake, fucked the rake | |
| Too hort baby damn sure ain' t fake | |
| But the sucker | |
| MC' s are screamin' loud | |
| Sayin' Sir | |
| Too hort, shut your mouth | |
| How can you talk about me, and call me weak | |
| When your father smokes coke and you mother' s a freak | |
| So I keep on rappin', if nothin' else | |
| Keep your jealous thoughts to yourself | |
| Bitch and bitch, he' s a | |
| MC rightAin' t sayin' nothin' but he' s holdin' the mic | |
| Fuck with me, and boy you' re doomed | |
| I send a trick with a hoe to the motel room' | |
| Cause I' m the coldest | |
| MC on a microphone | |
| Like a 357 pointed at your dome | |
| I got cap for cap, you never heard | |
| So fresh again with cusswords | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, fuckin' with me | |
| Fuck a skank bitch and a sucker | |
| MCAll you bastards got the claps | |
| And fuck you punk ' cause you still can' t rap | |
| Cusswords, just let ' em know | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, goddamn ass hoe | |
| Cusswords, just don' t quit | |
| Motherfuck you damn shithead bitch | |
| It' s Too hort, on the mic, and it don' t stop | |
| And it don' t stop, and it won' t stop, bitch | |
| Check out my style |
| zuò cí : Shaw | |
| So you motherfuckers thought | |
| I was gonna change my style? | |
| So what are you saying | |
| Todd? To all you bitches, hoes, and all that shit | |
| Here' s another rap that | |
| I' m ready to spit | |
| It goes like this, my name is hort | |
| I' m tearin' shit up like never before | |
| Pimp slaps, makin' snaps | |
| Cold cash money and | |
| Too hort raps | |
| Oakland, California that' s where | |
| I' m fromThe city where the boys say you don' t want none | |
| But if you do, | |
| I' m gonna tell you this | |
| Trues and vogues ain' t really shit | |
| Wanna roll so hard, all of the time | |
| You and that bitch playin' | |
| Too hort rhymes | |
| If you ask me, what it' s all about, | |
| I' ll say it' s about that money | |
| But if you ask me, could you have some, | |
| I' ll say it doesn' t concern me | |
| Ronald Reagan came up to me and said, " Do you have the answerTo the U. S. economy and a cure for cancer?" | |
| I said, what are you doin' in the | |
| White House | |
| If you' re not sellin' cocaine? | |
| Ask your wife, | |
| Nancy Reagan, | |
| I know she' ll spit that game | |
| Like one night, she came to my house, and gave me a blow job | |
| She licked my dick, up and down, like it was corn on the cob | |
| What is life? | |
| Life is Too hort | |
| I play the bitches like it' s a sport | |
| Yeah, I' ll play the bitches just like y' all | |
| Like Dr. J played basketball | |
| You can call me | |
| Too, don' t say it twice | |
| You' ll get me real mad and | |
| I' ll fuck your wife | |
| You see I' m not proper, | |
| I' m rarely polite | |
| Too hort, | |
| Too hort, don' t say it tonight, bitch | |
| It started on a bright morning in 1987 | |
| I was in my drop to | |
| Caddy y' all gettin' sucked by a bitch named | |
| HelenNasty bitches, around the world, | |
| I wrote this rhyme for you | |
| You might not like my rap, but | |
| I' m tellin' you bitch it' s true | |
| So much death in the | |
| Oakland streets | |
| Am I gonna live till next week? | |
| Will I get shot by a dope fiend | |
| Tryin' to get high, tryin' to steal my ring | |
| I really can' t say, ' cause | |
| I don' t know why | |
| People out here droppin' dead like flies | |
| I used to see a home boy givin' five | |
| Now I say, " Man, you' re still alive?" | |
| Cold as hell, the town | |
| I' m fromWon' t last too long when you' re fakin' the funk | |
| I' m the master rapper, so unique | |
| Clap my hand when | |
| I want my freak | |
| You can' t deny it, you know | |
| I' m rightI turn any rapper out when | |
| I' m on the mic | |
| And I won' t kick back, or relax | |
| Till he knows | |
| I' m the best at the | |
| MC rapTill he knows | |
| Too hort, set the track | |
| They got him caught up in my serious cap | |
| Motherfucker can' t spit straight game on the mic' | |
| Cause he' s worse than a fag or a | |
| Frisco dike | |
| He' s a sucker | |
| MC, I call him punk | |
| Tryin' to spit that rap, you can scratch that junk | |
| You little punkass boy, wouldn' t listen to me | |
| Think I' m fakin' but | |
| I' m takin' all you sucker | |
| MC' sTo the end of the world and push you over | |
| Good luck couldn' t find you in a four leaf clover | |
| If I ever said a rap, tryin' to cap on you | |
| I wouldn' t even sweat it ' cause you' ll be through | |
| Lookin' so far up, you might fall down | |
| Gettin' clowned by the hound from east | |
| OaktownAnd the look in your face when you' re lickin' that tooth | |
| Could make a grown man die, laughin' at you' | |
| Cause you' re a, no rappin', no rhymin' | |
| Played out fake ass | |
| Simple Simon | |
| I never understood one word you said | |
| But you' re swearin' up and down that you' re killin' ' em dead | |
| There' s only one thing, | |
| I wanted to know | |
| Sucker motherfucker, where' s the joke? | |
| I' m the player of players, just call me | |
| PopMy name is | |
| Too hort, no | |
| I don' t stop | |
| I just don' t stop mackin', don' t stop cappin' | |
| Don' t stop rappin' now you see what happens | |
| Your mind is gone, your crew just cut | |
| Sucker MC | |
| I' ll tell you what | |
| Your rhymes are weak, your rap the same | |
| And when it comes to game, you are lame | |
| Never even heard of | |
| Too hort baby | |
| Hit Oakland in 1980 | |
| Singin' mo' raps than a rap could rhyme | |
| Tellin' sucker | |
| MC' s don' t waste my time | |
| There' s a girl | |
| I know her name is | |
| BettyStraight to the head just rock it steady | |
| She' s so freaky she' ll juice you up | |
| All the home boys just can' t get enough | |
| She' s a Ph. | |
| D., don' t even stop | |
| In the back like that goin', top, top, top | |
| I won' t say white girl, won' t say she' s black | |
| She' s the kind of girl that make your knees go crack | |
| Feel the beat, rock with me | |
| Let me tell you what | |
| I beI' m a | |
| MC rapper, a | |
| MC rapperA big bank roller and a cold, cold capper | |
| Hey baby, | |
| I got this rhyme | |
| It' s not gonna stop till the end of time | |
| Like rock and roll | |
| I' ll play that song | |
| To the beat all day and all night long | |
| So liten up, to what | |
| I' m sayin' | |
| I' m a Oaktown mack, bitch | |
| I ain' t playin' | |
| To all the home boys doin' time in the pen | |
| Gonna rock this beat for you once again | |
| If you can' t get out and you' re mad as hell | |
| Say bitch, now make it sound for real | |
| I' ma tear shit up, if | |
| I get the chance | |
| I could give a fuck less if you' re hole don' t dance | |
| See I' m a big mack now, | |
| I' m so great | |
| I was born and raised in the | |
| Golden State | |
| Call me T | |
| O O, if you say hort | |
| I' ma rap my ass off till you give me some more | |
| Big bank, now just make me rich | |
| Bitch bitch bitch bitch make me rich | |
| Check out my style, baby | |
| I don' t quit | |
| I heard this freak say, " That' s the shit" | |
| He took the cake, fucked the rake | |
| Too hort baby damn sure ain' t fake | |
| But the sucker | |
| MC' s are screamin' loud | |
| Sayin' Sir | |
| Too hort, shut your mouth | |
| How can you talk about me, and call me weak | |
| When your father smokes coke and you mother' s a freak | |
| So I keep on rappin', if nothin' else | |
| Keep your jealous thoughts to yourself | |
| Bitch and bitch, he' s a | |
| MC rightAin' t sayin' nothin' but he' s holdin' the mic | |
| Fuck with me, and boy you' re doomed | |
| I send a trick with a hoe to the motel room' | |
| Cause I' m the coldest | |
| MC on a microphone | |
| Like a 357 pointed at your dome | |
| I got cap for cap, you never heard | |
| So fresh again with cusswords | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, fuckin' with me | |
| Fuck a skank bitch and a sucker | |
| MCAll you bastards got the claps | |
| And fuck you punk ' cause you still can' t rap | |
| Cusswords, just let ' em know | |
| Motherfuckin' shit, goddamn ass hoe | |
| Cusswords, just don' t quit | |
| Motherfuck you damn shithead bitch | |
| It' s Too hort, on the mic, and it don' t stop | |
| And it don' t stop, and it won' t stop, bitch | |
| Check out my style |
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