Hey Look at Shorty

Yo Finesse, c'mere [LF] Yeah yeah, whassup? Why don't you tell this boy How you was back in the day with poetry [Lord Finesse] Yeah, check it out Let's go down a few years let's say way down When I used to lounge and say rhymes in the playground I'mma show you how I used to do things I was wearin Pro Keds with crazy fat shoestrings Even as a child, things didn't come easier I wrote rhymes, while other kids played ringolevia I was set, determined to climb in rap Brothers got high - I didn't have time for that I was rowdy, I didn't say violent though Got my respect and props at the talent shows And at the jams and the parties I went to A-dults used to say, "Yo Shorty got potential" I stepped on the stage with authority and confindence Got claps and cheers, and plus STUPID compliments I deep down felt, I needed no one's help To gain my wealth, so I went out for self None was never foolin me, brothers was cool with me My rap ingenuity I took to school with me So in high school, I admit, I could rhyme good Brothers got mad cause they couldn't flow like I could I was swift with this, so brothers couldn't get with this Niggas was so weak on the mic, it was ridiculous You was stupid to try to step to run mine You usually got burnt and stomped durin lunchtime Cause I was able, to keep the rhyme stable And please the crowd while I was bangin on a table So as the days passed, and the months zoomed I was the funkiest rapper in the lunchroom I was funky the way I kicked and tell things Take on MC's, and stomp em before the bell rings Usin my blessings to take out contestants "Was you nice on the mic?" Stupid question So you know I was far from a wannabe Even doe pioneers used to front on me sayin "Get from under the ropes Shorty, you're not a known rhymer" Give me the mic and step off, you fuckin old timer And shut the hell up cause my skills are developed Funky for my age, but my head will never swell up I got mean on the scene, with a rougher rap And left brothers sayin, "Who the fuck was that?" The new comer, I got plenty numbers I was the main event, at the jams every summer I was, short and sturdy, plus I used to rhyme dirty Get in trouble for stayin out after 9:30 I was a kid with a mic that was runnin shit Had to come back and take mine after punishment Cause when it came to rhymin, I was a hot beginner I used to take out and stomp all the top contenders The skills I had, I used to flip and flaunt I was servin brothers like I worked in a resteraunt I was the type, to spark and bomb troops Take on everybody and win except Mom Dukes I didn't need a 40, to prove I was naughty Cause even as a kid, people said, "Look at Shorty!" * cut and scratch "Look at Shorty!" - DJ Mike Smooth *