It Don`t Stop lyrics

Artist  : Too $hort 
Song : It Don`t Stop



 Send "It Don`t Stop" Ringtone to your Cell 

 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 $hort

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
$hort, 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 $hort, too $hort)



[ 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 $hort 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 $hort, too
$hort)



[ 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 $hort 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 $hort, too
$hort)