Goldy - The Game is Sold Not Told lyrics

[ Goldy ] Why do you imitate us? [ $hort ] Man, what's really goin on? [ Goldy ] Tired of all you bustas imitatin the Oakland sh** [ $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 a** who started that 'b**h' 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, "f** rap from New York" Cause your dick got hard, but you ain't seen a p**y or been in one Listen to $hort, be ready to mack some b**hes when it's done It's some of that mackish Oakland street sh**, 'b**h' wasn't no secret But it got famous when we said it when that beat hit When $hort dropped, n***as 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 b**h, givin her free dick, savin, just without a cape Mark, afraid they call your woman a b**h and put that b**h 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 b**h, because the game is sold, not told [ $hort ] Spit that sh**, n***a Oaktown in the house It's still goin on [ VERSE 2: Too $hort ] Now take my b**h, she won't complain about sh**, cause she's my ho So let the game out-slick and hit a high note And then scream out 'b**h!' and let em all know you love Too $hort, b*atch Now everybody wanna pimp, mack hats on a simp, n***as 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, n***as 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 a** for lessons Cause he wanna be $hort Dog so damn bad, y'all Bitin on my dick tryin to show that a** 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 n***a, drop to your knees And recognize the original pimps on the mic Too $hort, Blowfly and Dolemite [ $hort ] Sho' ain't you, little n***a [ Goldy ] Yeah, sho' the f** ain't you busta-a** imitatin-a** n***as Recognize who started this sh** Let me ask you marks some questions Check it out Where'd you get yo funk from? Muthaf**a got it from Oakland, California, n***as Where'd you get yo game from? [ $hort ] Eastside, Westside, Northside [ VERSE 3: Goldy ] Watchin the muthaf**in _Mack_ starrin Goldie, Frank Ward and Pretty Tony All about that real Oakland mack sh**, 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 a** and watch your chest cave in Where I'm from n***as 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 b**h 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 sh** that you wrote The slow beat, fat ba**, and funky ba**line 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 a** from goin broke When he get rich don't give you sh**, 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 ba*tard, you should be blasted for the dicks you rode To get the game, cause it's sold, not told [ $hort ] n***a taught he's listen to a couple of rap tapes, man And be a pimp, you know I guess it had to be that n***a Oaktown [ VERSE 4: Too $hort ] Wear that hat like me, n***a, act like me But I bet that muthaf**a won't get fat like me Cause it's more than a pimpin-a** image and a style I been doin this for years, gettin b**hes all the while A real player gotta know how to lay his sh** Fake players get a b**h and don't be sayin sh** You a player? You get teased sometimes I'm a pimpin-a** n***a 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 n***as stole it Now some wanna-be from Oakland pimp Knocked two b**hes, ain't broke em in You ask me, that sh** 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 sh** do You said you had b**hes, n***a, 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, n***a The game The muthaf**in game