Buy You Some Lyrics - Gettin' It (album Number Ten) - Too $hort

Whoo, ah, ah, ayahh, ahh, ahh, ahh 

And you don't stop, ahh, ahh, word is bond, word is bond 

Now introducing the sound from the ghetto 

E Double and Too Short, what the fuck you thought? 

I come with the ruckus, it's my thing when I swing 

I'm born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat 

Who out there? I swear, boy, wanna get touched 

Roll up and catch a slug to the chest, so duck 

I talk the talk, walk the walk, now nigga 

Five hundred S driving with hand on trigger 

Crazy Lestat, check my track record 

Everything I touch is gold since eighteen years old 

So what that mean? I roll the blunt 

And puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minute 

Crazy holy doctor holding me 'cause I be rocking B 

Sewing up like monopoly, nobody's stopping me 

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Dig it, Funkdafied like Brat, how's that? 

I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sack 

Who said the E can't rock? That's bullshit 

Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls 

You wanna brawl? Punk I thought not 

You might get beat down and stomped like Sasquatch 

Your girl, like Keith Sweat, I wanna fuck her 

Psych, I already stuck her 

I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up 

Here's an icepack homeboy shut the hell up 

I rock the mic with Too Short, y'all niggaz know what's happening 

Everything he touch goes platinum, yeah 

I made a half a million in a week 

And every nigga on the street got a tape playing me 

You can't believe it? Erick Sermon, rolling with Short 

Rolled from California all the way to New York 

Photos 

In big Benzes, G-50 up 

Now we trying to squash all that east west stuff 

We spent years in the studio making funky tracks 

Signed a bunch of niggaz with some tight ass raps 

It's like Father Dom, it's like Keith Murray 

Making millionaires but it ain't no hurry 

'Cause we all in it for the long run 

I won't leave the studio until a song's done 

And ain't nothing really hard about getting my cash 

A big phat house with a million stash 

You other niggaz got this rap game distorted 

Giving DATs to the label, straight getting shorted 

Claim you're getting paid but I can't tell 

You keep rapping in my ear got me mad as hell 

You talk a good game but I don't believe in you 

Be smoking lotta blunts but I got more weed than you 

I guess I see you on the charts in the meanwhile 

Another face in the crowd plus some freestyle 

Wishing you could be in the light 

Promoters pay me ten G's just to breathe on the mic 

Bitch, Short Dawg putting it down with the E Double 

Shh, you remind me of my phat gold chain 

Some of y'all are just small change 

Be a boss with true true game, yeah, yeah 

Dig this y'all, my music is dangerous 

Atomic Dog, coming through the smog with Short Dawg 

Ahh, quick with the trig Jack be nimble 

I shoot like G Mob goes lifting through my window 

Chik, chik, pow, how you like me now? 

The man in the mirror it don't get no clearer 

Short Dawg, the E Double and Breed we roll thick 

Like girls in C.A.U. with the good power-U 

Oww, money is the key to fame 

So I can live it up with the girls on Soul Train 

The impact, major league dough like Dave Justice 

Yo Breed, Short Dawg, show em how we bust this 

Like some true pioneers, don't forget it 

Put the money on the table, let's split it 

We got enough G's here to make us both happy 

Tell them fans we ain't running no coke factory 

It's Short Dawg the real pimp of the century 

Girls get wet every time somebody mention me 

I was known for my macking back in eighty-four 

I want it all, that's what I keep stacking for 

Have things that a rapper never dreamed of having 

And I can tell them how to get it just keep rapping 

Life's a battle, headed for the new sun 

So many ways to get paid, you got ta choose one 

Now some of the ways to get paid out is running your mouth 

That street life will keep me tight, I'm talking 'bout 

Getting green, dolla, dolla bills y'all 

That's on the real, something you can feel y'all 

Many claim to have game but you can get that on sale 

But ain't nothing they selling to you but Arbor and Gail 

I mean Sprinkle Me homey 'cause I'm 'bout dollars and cents 

And if you ain't hauling dollars, well, you ain't holler 

In FlintI'd rather dip dip dive, so socialize 

Get loot from the Great Lakes, West to Eastside 

You tramp, trick, hach, I spit 

Undergrade if you ain't getting paid like this 

The hours of the ATL paves my name 

Spitting Mr. Macker izzer are you still in the game 

See, I gets paid by the movement of the cut 

I've been summoned by the cancer, to testify and bless 

It's that, big mack, like scripture is a phat Kodeje? 

So hide your hoe from me 

Southern ambassador, knocking at your door 

Leading a click that's true, checking knowing all fifty-two 

See, all you tricks, best behave 

It's that Southern nigga mack from the city of the brave 

I got the platinum caul, yes, yes, y'all, so plant me 

With the green and them hoes and we can big ball 

Yeah, now we rolling four deep, double dosing 

Relaxing and maxing to Short and these beats 

E Double, Short Dawg, Kool Ace 

In the place and be all but bring you straight horror 

Representing money, buy you some nigga