Goldy - The Game Is Sold Not Told lyrics | LyricsFreak
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The Game Is Sold Not Told Lyrics

Goldy – The Game Is Sold Not Told Lyrics

Why do you imitate us?
[ $hort ]
Man, what's really goin on?
Tired of all you bustas imitatin the Oakland shit
[ $hort ]
Tryin to tell you
Spittin that Oakland slang and that Oakland game in y'all raps
Really though

[ verse 1: Goldy ]
The game is sold, not told, stop holdin your hand out and wantin a freebee
I'm from Oakland, you can never be me, so stop ridin my dick and makin it greasy
Easy to take what's Oakland's, you klepto, you stepped though
When we asked your ass who started that 'bitch' word sayin from the get-go
(Biaatch) In 1982 I heard it from Too $hort
Moms and pops said, "Turn it off", but you stuck and said, "Fuck rap from New York"
Cause your dick got hard, but you ain't seen a pussy or been in one
Listen to $hort, be ready to mack some bitches when it's done
It's some of that mackish Oakland street shit, 'bitch' wasn't no secret
But it got famous when we said it when that beat hit
When $hort dropped, niggas rappin now was infants
We taught you the pimp-player-mack game cause you didn't know the difference
You took the game and twist it, bent it out of shape
Payin a bitch, givin her free dick, savin, just without a cape
Mark, afraid they call your woman a bitch and put that bitch in her place
Keepin her payin you cash and put your dick in her face
Brims, perms, Caddy's with the 5th wheel
We told you some of the game you ran, wouldn't, couldn't sit still
So now it's time to take back what you stole, and make you fold
Bitch, because the game is sold, not told

[ $hort ]
Spit that shit, nigga
Oaktown in the house
It's still goin on

[ verse 2: Too $hort ]
Now take my bitch, she won't complain about shit, cause she's my ho
So let the game out-slick and hit a high note
And then scream out 'bitch! ' and let em all know you love Too $hort, biatch
Now everybody wanna pimp, mack hats on a simp, niggas frontin on a pimp
I'm from Oakland, California where _The Mack_ was made
Grab a pen, start pimpin, like that, you're paid
But your game is shallow, not pimpin, you a car thief
Worse than a fake gangster rap to a hard beat
I tell it like it is, not sittin at the house thinkin music biz
I got love for the pimp game, niggas stop dissin
Daddy's in the house, and when you hear, pops listen
Next time you start mackin in a studio session
I got to charge his punk ass for lessons
Cause he wanna be $hort Dog so damn bad, y'all
Bitin on my dick tryin to show that ass off
Workin that image just like me
But the game is sold, it don't come for free
And I won't say "please" when I collect my fees
Bow down, little nigga, drop to your knees
And recognize the original pimps on the mic
Too $hort, Blowfly and Dolemite

[ $hort ]
Sho' ain't you, little nigga

Yeah, sho' the fuck ain't you busta-ass imitatin-ass niggas
Recognize who started this shit
Let me ask you marks some questions
Check it out
Where'd you get yo funk from?
Muthafucka got it from Oakland, California, niggas
Where'd you get yo game from?
[ $hort ]
Eastside, Westside, Northside

[ verse 3: Goldy ]
Watchin the muthafuckin _Mack_ starrin Goldie, Frank Ward and Pretty Tony
All about that real Oakland mack shit, busters, not no phoney
Dressin up like the old days, the player's ball ain't Halloween
We give one in Oakland every year, stay home and keep your collar clean
Cause you're not like a player, more like a shade-tree, better yet a rest haven
Tuck your dick in your ass and watch your chest cave in
Where I'm from niggas be mackin hoes for bread and water
Mackin they wife, cause stackin is life and times is gettin harder
All of a sudden you don't know
That $hort said never love a bitch or a ho?
Mark, so recognize that you learned it from the legendary Too $hort
You stole that image and stole that game, we claim that shit that you wrote
The slow beat, fat bass, and funky bassline
With a name like Mike Dog get bit from $hort Dog, I know it taste fine
Like givin a fool a ounce of coke, keepin his ass from goin broke
When he get rich don't give you shit, you saw him, but he never spoke
What? What part of the game is that?
We gave you the sack and gave you the game to run it
Without this Oakland game you wouldn'ta done it
You midget rat bastard, you should be blasted for the dicks you rode
To get the game, cause it's sold, not told

[ $hort ]
Nigga taught he's listen to a couple of rap tapes, man
And be a pimp, you know
I guess it had to be that nigga

[ verse 4: Too $hort ]
Wear that hat like me, nigga, act like me
But I bet that muthafucka won't get fat like me
Cause it's more than a pimpin-ass image and a style
I been doin this for years, gettin bitches all the while
A real player gotta know how to lay his shit
Fake players get a bitch and don't be sayin shit
You a player? You get teased sometimes
I'm a pimpin-ass nigga makin g's for lines
Some call it gangster rap, even though it ain't
Won't nobody get shot while I spit this game
So call the pimp police, and just hold it
I put the game to the beat, and niggas stole it
Now some wanna-be from Oakland pimp
Knocked two bitches, ain't broke em in
You ask me, that shit is foul
You want some money? Can't get it now
You gotta change your style, you can't pimp no more
My old tapes still sit in the record store
Sellin more than yo new shit do
You said you had bitches, nigga, who pimped who?
Cause you're workin in a warehouse now
Bout to blow your brains out tryin to wear my style out
You shoulda picked some other songs to rap
Cause Oakland, California is the home of _The Mack_
And it's sold not told, nigga
The game

The muthafuckin game
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