LYRICS FOR BORN TO MACK
SONG: I AINT NOTHING BUT A DOG - I've been a dog ever since I was young
I saw The Mack and got all so sprung
I couldn't help it, I had to be just like that
With a stable of hoes and my pockets fat
But don't trip, I made up my mind when I was 17
I ain't with no marriage and a wedding ring
I be a player for life, forget about a wife She just ain't my type
Cause i mack each hoe and get richerAnd if it ain't like that then I forget ya
I know you're just a freak, hoe You're so nastyThat's why you're stairin'
When you walk like pass meB****, now you're lookin' back
All dogs must chase the cat So here I come, I just wanna f*** you and cut
Treat you like trampy slutSo much game when homies' tough
Meet a b*** like you and smooth come up
I have your fake-ass closin' up bank accounts
Spittin' straight pimpgame from the Oakland-town
It's been done before and i do it again
Break your mama, your sista and all your friends$hort dog's on the microphone
And I won't stop mackin' till my bank is longSo try to break me if you wanna
From me you get nothin' but dramaIf you're a rich b***, I got a new twist
And if you're with it, b***Then we can do thisPut me on the payroll
Bick me down bankrollBuy me a benz and keep my tank full
Cause other than that, I don't need no brood$hort Dog ain't nothin' but a dog...
I got all my game from East Oakland's street
So mothaf*** you damn shit-head freaksCouldn't pay me enough to treat you right
Cause $hort Dog ain't nothin' niceLike a sucka-mothaf*** let a b*** be boss
Tellin' him how much she wants Let her use your carI'm from oakland, b****
And you can check my rapI hear fake b****es get slapped
Let a b**** get bold with me I start to act like Goldy
Tell me who's in the house now? Shorty The PimpAnd I'm the last mothaf****
That will pay your rentI ain't blind, I know you're fine as f***
But you're a tramp, b*** You ain't mine what's up?
Try to give me some p**** but I want some head
And I allready know everythin' you didThey say you f*** like old-ass tired b****
But the word is out you suck some good ass d***
And I don't want nothin' if I can't get it allYou should know
Cause I ain't nothin' but a dog, bitch...$hort dog ain't nothin' but a dog
B****, f*** with me and you gotta do it allMost brothas try to take freaks out
I get a room and stick my d*** in her mouth
They spend money on a movie and some dinnerBut $hort Dog goes straight up in her
I give b**** no respectAnd the way I run my game they understand this shit
You couldn't be like me cause you buy her things
Used to be a broke fiend and now it's diamond rings
I remember when I f**** your prom dateYou bought a dress and everythin'
But she just couldn't wait for the pralm to end
So she can call me up it was our very first date And it was cool to f****
Now I be doin' this shit all the timeI got b***** on my mind
Can't change in 1992Cause I still gotta find new, sweet, black
What should I call it? I won't say it But if it's lain' on my bed, I'm a fade it
$hort dog ain't nothin' but a dogUse to clown to hoes at the East Maid mall
I was actin' like a pimp when I was 7Started to suckin' up game at 11
And at the age of young 14I started to knock young b****es on the scene
Couldn't give a f*** less about a b****Thinkin' like that $hort Dog got rich
Now I'm makin' ends and you think i'm weak
Cause i'm allways downin' these toe-up freaksTell me who's the man
And who's the mouse, b****?I'm Audi-five to my dog house...
SONG: IN THE TRUNK - It's onWhere they at, where they at, where they at
I sold tapes every day me and Freddy BBeen famous since 1983
Give me ten dollars, and you straight get blessed
A rap all about you called the special requestOakland, you know I go way back
To coug nuts, fal stangs, and cadillac'sWhen homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking burnersEverybody got addicted to my dopefiend beat
Whole town f**** around and started smoking D
Every rap I ever made was about this town
I made 7 whole albums with no James Brown
And even though I love his music, I just can't stand
The way they used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky, I say p**** on an old hoeI guess y'all fools don't know
Why some good rappers can't sell no tapes
It's not the company's fault, the shit sounds fake
You wanna be in the trunk, with the booming box
While the young b**** ride on your jock
You can't do it like this homey, so just pass it
And stop kissing them white folks assesIt's like you smoked a whole damn key
You rap so fast you keep leaving the beatI'm from the old school, I love P-Funk
But now rap music is all that they wantSo when I'm in my car, I play Clinton
And when I'm on the stage I start pimpingAnd when I hear your shit, I push eject
Then I throw it out the window with the rejects
And when the hard core rappers go softI like to watch when they ass fall off
Cause ain't nothing worth kicking like a sucka MC
And any other rappers ever talk about me
I don't stop rapping, that's all they can sayAnd how I dogg b****, every day
But if you can't be a dogg, then you're weakYou be phony like a side show freak
Some rappers try to come off positiveWhere I'm from that just ain't how it is
They say rap music is here to stayBut the sucka MC's don't think that way
It took 8 long years before I got my break
So I wonder why rapper's make fake ass tapes
You won't get paid like I did, so give up punk
And while your in the studio, I'm in the trunk
You got no choice, so don't flip that coin
This ain't the military, so you punks can't join
It ain't pop, it's called underground rap
From Oakland California and the shit sounds phat
I'm spitting raps to my motherf****ng homies
That's why they listen to the one and only
I used to be broke, but now we all used to be
Got no game for a b***, all the game is for me
And these b****, can't say shit to me
They could never could f*** with Short baby
I'm not a tounge twisting rapper with a funny style
Don't dress hip hop and dance real wildBut I do sell records like a motherf****r
Even though you might I'm just another sucka
I find the beat and then never switch
Grab the microphone and then call you a b***
You want rent money, I got pimp money
One thing's for sure, I won't give it to a h**
I throw a b**** in the god damn trunkAnd start slamming that Oakland funk
Short Dogg's in the house, once again
Trying to fade the platnum, with Shorty the Pimp
And when I do, I'm going straight to the bank
Withdraw some money and buy some dankYou can't relate to my motherf****g homies
That's why they listen to the one and onlyI grew up on the funk called P
But these motherf****s growing up on meAnd if I ego trip, and my head is f****
I take my ass back, to where I grew upAnd get real boy, it's never too late
Before I do like you and make a weak ass tapeI'm in the trunk...
in the trunk, in, in the trunkin the trunk, in, in the trunk
in the trunk beating down the blockin the trunk, in, in the trunk
in the trunk, in, in the trunkin the trunk beating down the block
SONG: I WANT TO BE FREE (THAT'S THE TRUTH)
You think Oakland California is a city of punks
It only takes a second to pop the trunkAnd just like that you know it's real
You're in the right damn town to get killed
It's all about the game, and nothin else
You come out here, you better watch yourself
Cause you can wear what you want, even blue or red
But cross the wrong brothers and end up dead
You catch a body full of bullets and get blasted
Trying to be a gangsta but you just ain't lasting
This little town is getting wild as hell
Check the penetentiaries and all the jails
If they could lock us all up that would be just fine
Got my partners from Oakland doing serious time
You can't argue with the truth it's hard to be black
But it's a mindgame and you gotta deal with that
I wake up everyday and I just can't wait
To make mo' money cause back in the days...
When I rapped, I did the same damn thing I do now
Grab the microphone and show you how
But I was broke, the only thing I had was game
I started making money and knew things would change
Bought a Benz, thought it might earn respect
But the O.P.D. found it hard to accept
I got jacked by the Task and jacked by the Vice
Face down on the ground keep my hands in sight
Put the handcuffs on, backseat I'm in itIllegal search for about thirty minutes
Asking me where's the dope?Where's my gun? But I don't know
I said I'm rapping, they laugh like I told a joke
And to this day they think I'm selling coke...
I want to be free! (and that's the truth) Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhhI've be in Oakland California every day of my life
Bass so hard you think I'm smoking the pipe
And if I don't smoke it, I gots to grindSearched all my stuff and all you find
is a pocket full of money, count seven G'sNow you wanna think I'm selling keys
Cause I'm a black man but I run my own business
So why the police wanna send me to prison?They see a brother making major cash
They knock a patch out his black ass
And that's the truth, you can't argue you at all
Trying to give you ten years for a phone call
Ain't even tripping on the dank smokeCause all they wanna find is guns and coke
In court all the time trying to fight itWe get rich, we get indeibted
So what's the problem, officer, this time?
Is having big money, being black a crime?
Or did you take me to jail to teach me a lesson?
Charge me with something or just ask questions...
About the brothers I hang aroundWhat's really goinh on in the Oakland town
Tell me who went broke and who got richBut Too $hort baby just ain't no snitch
You say you're just doing your jobBut you're getting on my nerves just like Bob
Everytime I hit a corner, I see youAlways telling brothers what to do
You lock me up cause I don't know how to act
But I'm down for mine so I be talking back
And when I do, you treat me bad as hellI'm sick of spending nights in jail...
I want to be free! (and that's the truth) Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhhGot out of jail about four fifteen
Walking down the street like a broke dopefiend
Had a pocket full of money, trying to play the role
Benz got towed and I was hella cold
But I ain't tripping, I'm getting used to it now
Handcuffed your boy, took me straight downtown
For three warrants, had to catch me sooner or later
Cause the 5-0's always trying to jack a playa...
For no reason, wasn't doing nothing wrong
You think I'm lying, singing that same ol' song
Well, I'm a black man riding in a BenzHow in the hell did I made these ends?
Here we go, I pull over to the rightStop the engine, keep my hands in sight
I start cursing cause it don't make senseWhy would I run and try to jump a fence
If I was planning a smooth getawayI never would've stopped in the first place
You'd be high speed chasing me but this time you ain't
Cause all I got on me is a big fat bank
And I hope I don't get robbed by you know who
Make me donate some G's to the boys in blueAnd if I sue, I won't get nothin back
But I ain't mad, I'm just black...I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhhI want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
SONG: SOMETHING TO RIDE TO - [Ant Banks]Aaahhhh shit!Now let me warm it up
I got the gin and juice and I'ma pour'em cup
To get smooth in the mood that I'm in
So lets start riding till this motherf*** ends
And hit the main strip where the hoes be hanging
Spitting some game and trying to throw that thang
On any young n*** with some endsA mobile phone and a drop top Benz
Take it from me, see, cause I know what it's about
Kick a big fat d*** in a b*** mouth
And keep riding, high siding but don't front
N*** serve that shit, don't be no punkAnd while the n****'s keep jocking
I be scopingAll the fine ass freaks of Oakland
That's where I reside and where I always will be
The city of killers, dope dealers and still we...
Chill like players and like pimpsMack all h*** and slap all simps
The big badass, I'm from the Dangerous Crew
I just hang with the gang like it's the thang to do
Now motherf**** can't face the facts that I'm doing this
Rapping and producing and they can't even ruing this
See everybody knows the Banksta
The big dick gangsta who's f**** with dank and clocking the bank
And I'm a get mine in the 9-0's
I mean the money, the fame and the and the big thick fine h***
I'm pulling up right beside youBumping this funky ass shit to ride to...
[Pooh Man]Now here's some shit for you to ride to punk
Fifteens slamming hard in my god damn trunkFrom 10th ave to a 105th
Young players ride the foothill stripThey ride Chevys, Cougars, Blazers, Vettes
5-60 Benzos with Ferrari kitsThey love fine ass b****, Rolex watch
Top let down on the coke white dropI love my high schools cuties
Muscle bound bootiesPools a hoes so you know I had to do my duties
I got to have it like a rabbitF*** her like a champ
I tell you n*** I'm a pro with these high school tramps
They say young minds, make good timesSee, I'm a player so let me give an 0-9
Alicia, Tina, Marie, and EvetteShe wanna ride, punk b****? You can ride my d***
Now Shawnetta, Shawnda an Rita tooNow here's a shot to the whole slug crew
Talk bad punk b*** but it's always Pooh
Kiss my ass and spend your cash, on this shit to ride to...[Mhisani]
Pushing my dank coke into the key and start the engine
Hit song, joking time, smoking, donuts while I'm spinning
A tight haffa fullest engine with duels and counts
Fuck a spare tire in my trunk, it's boom, that slams
Cause I'm a young brotha like to burn rubber yo ??? out of lanes
I pump it while ya bump her so ya change
Than I take a pitched out, exterior interior window
They wax me, then they buff me, n**** don't love me, now I'm tipped out
Now I'm coming fresh from the detail shopGoing to the lee-male spots
Looking for the female c***
I feel the bass and woofer kick my chest like a heartbeat
Went to the curb, when I saw the ass of a dark freak
So I pulled up slamming $hort DogI said: 'hey!', she said...[snort]
I said: 'damn! I'm f**** warthog!'So I smashed out doing 90
Covered her ass up with the smoke I left behind me
The metly stently flowed in my ears like oxygen
Too $hort pulling the bass, got the hoes on our jocks again
F**** with the hooties with booties and big t****ies
That's potent but all I is cheese for a rodent
Got a ticket doing 60 in a school crossing
Picking up my young c*** for some cool tossing
Defermation of character, racially slandering
But all I'm ever giving ya is pimping and pandering
So please let me go off of someBecause I could be at home in my bed tossing her
I make like altune, quick to value human dash
Hit the freeway cause I can't play when I got some ass
Respect a player and an O.G. that's what they told meMhisani nickname Goldy...
[Too Short]Now, I come from the mother f*** eastside
So shut the f*** up b*** and just rideI'm $hort Dog, h**, you can't front me
Since my very first album I was funkyB***s start seeing them dollar signs
Even though I wouldn't give a broke b*** one dime
It's kind of funny, they want money from a pimpB****, you couldn't get 50 cents
I take a gap from your ass and then I owe you the rest
I know the game, hoe, and I'm a vetPlaying broads ain't based on love
You want my money, I wanna f***
And after we do all that, I talk about you in my next rap
Biyaatch! Kiss my pimping assCause all the time I didn't have this cash
You wouldn't call, wouldn't give me your number
I couldn't see ya like Stevie WonderI made a hit record, now I got money
You wanna play $hort Dog for a dummyBut I come from the motherf**** eastside
You suck my d*** so I let the fake b*** rideDangerous music is on the mic
And like Banks always say: 'this shit is tight!'
Email: jkarjalainen@hotmail.com
