Too $hort Dead or Alive Lyrics

Short Dog’s in the House Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 $hort Dog’s in the House
  • 2 It’s Your Life
  • 3 The Ghetto
  • 4 Short but Funky
  • 5 In the Oaktown
  • 6 Dead or Alive
  • 7 Punk Bitch
  • 8 Ain’t Nothin’ but a Word to Me
  • 9 Hard on the Boulevard
  • 10 Pimpology
  • 11 Paula & Janet
  • 12 Rap Like Me
  • 13 The Ghetto (reprise)
  • 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



    Written by: Bernie Worrell, George Clinton, Todd Shaw, Unknown Writer, William Bootsy Collins
    Lyrics © A SIDE MUSIC LLC D/B/A MODERN WORKS MUSIC PUBLISHING

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