paroles de chanson Dead or Alive - Too $hort
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
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