Dead Or Alive Lyrics - Short Dog's In The House - 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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