Oh my god Becky, look at her butt It is so big She looks like one of those rap guys girlfriends Who understands those rap guys They only talk to her because she looks like a total prostitute I mean her butt It's just so big I can't believe it's so round It's just out there I mean, it's gross Look, she's just so black
I like big butts and I can not lie You other brothers can't deny That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist And a round thing in your face You get sprung Wanna pull up front Cuz you notice that butt was stuffed Deep in the jeans she's wearing I'm hooked and I can't stop staring Oh, baby I wanna get with ya And take your picture My homeboys tried to warn me But with that butt you got Make Me so horney Ooh, all of that smooth skin You say you wanna get in my benz Well use me use me cuz you aint that average groupy
I've seen them dancin' The hell with romancin' Sweat, wet, got it goin like a turbo vette
I'm tired of magazines Saying flat butts are the thing Take the average black man and ask him that She gotta pack much back
Fellas (yeah) Fellas(yeah) Has your girlfriend got the butt (hell yeah) Well shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, shake that healthy butt Baby got back
(LA face with Oakland booty)
I like'em round and big And when I'm throwin a gig I just can't help myself I'm actin like an animal Now here's my scandal
I wanna get you home And --, double up -- -- I aint talkin bout playboy Cuz silicone parts were made for toys I wannem real thick and juicy So find that juicy double Mixalot's in trouble Beggin for a piece of that bubble So I'm lookin' at rock videos Watchin' these bimbos walkin like hoes You can have them bimbos I'll keep my women like Flo Jo A word to the thick soul sistas I wanna get with ya I won't cus or hit ya But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna -- Til the break of dawn I got it goin on Alot of pimps won't like this song Cuz them punks lie to hit it and quit it But I'd rather stay and play Cuz I'm long and I'm strong And I'm down to get the friction on
So ladies (yeah), Ladies (yeah) If you wanna roll in my Mercedes (yeah) Then turn around Stick it out Even white boys got to shout Baby got back
(LA face with the Oakland booty)
Yeah baby When it comes to females Cosmo and got nothin to do with my selection 36-24-36 Only if she's 5'3"
So your girlfriend throws a Honda Playin workout tapes by Fonda But Fonda ain't got a motor in the back of her Honda My anaconda don't want none unless you've got buns hun You can do side bends or sit-ups, but please don't lose that butt Some brothers wanna play that hard role And tell you that the butt ain't gold So they toss it and leave it And I pull up quick to retrieve it So cosmo says you're fat Well I ain't down with that Cuz your waste is small and your curves are kickin And I'm thinkin bout stickin To the beanpole dames in the magazines You aint it miss thing Give me a sista I can't resist her Red beans and rice didn't miss her Some knucklehead tried to dis Cuz his girls were on my list He had game but he chose to hit 'em And pulled up quick to get with 'em So ladies if the butt is round And you wanna triple X throw down Dial 1-900-MIXALOT and kick them nasty thoughts Baby got back
[Mix-A-Lot] Yo Attitude (talk to me) [Mix-A-Lot] We got some bustin ass marks out here [Mix-A-Lot] Claimin some motherfuckin place they ain't never seen [Attitude] Huh, sellout [Mix-A-Lot] Boy this is the S-E-A-T-O-W-N, clown [Attitude] Forever (Seatown) [Attitude] Yeah, and that's from the motherfuckin heart [Attitude] So if you ain't down witcha hometown, STEP OFF PUNK [Attitude] Mix, tell these fakes what the deal is
[Verse One: Sir Mix-A-Lot] I was raised in the S-E-A-double T-L-E Seattle, born in the C.D. nigga 19th and yes LeBorda(?) pimpin was hard Caddillac was the car I wanted And I got that seven-seven Coupe with the trues and straps I couldn't roll no hubcaps, huh, it wasn't easy Tryin to compete, with my homies in the C.D. Here's my plan, funky-ass sedan Laid down with the vogues, money in my hand Hair all whipped up Carload full of freaks with the butts I used to cruise around Seward Park Flip the funky eighty-one, and La Vista Lookin for freaks to be G'd Most mini-skirts wanted please In them days boy you had to be pimpin Just to keep motherfuckers from trippin Now punks want to run up pokin With a nine double-M, is you jokin? Cause I'm packin - a HK-91 son 308's is what I run A lot of clowns tried to take this town but they didn't Huh, cause Seattle wasn't bullshittin
[Interlude: Attitude] It ain't nothin but the real up in the Northwest (real deal nigga) So don't step to the 2-oh-6 tryin to kick up dust Or you might get floored, sucka (get FUCKED UP), think about it This is from the Attitude Adjustor
[Verse Two: Sir Mix-A-Lot] Do we got gangs? Hell yeah, brothers gotta get paid Mickey D's ain't payin no way So they take to the streets with gats And they'll put 'em on ya just like that So I'm undercover, when I'm rollin through the C.D. A lot of niggaz want to get me I see a freak in front of Garfield, I swoop around the block Gang of niggaz yellin out, "Fuck Mix-A-Lot!" Do I hate 'em? Naw, I gotta love 'em They think my head is big, and I'm tryin to be above 'em Huh, but to the masses I'm just another coon Gettin paid for a little bit of boon So even though a lot of niggaz talk shit I'm still down for the Northwest when I hit the stage, anywhere U.S.A. I give Seattle and Tacoma much play So here's a shot to the Criminal Nation And the young brother Kid Sensation I can't forget Maharaji and the Attitude Adjustor And the hardcore brothers to the West of Seattle Yeah, Westside High Pointe, dippin fo'-do' rides And my homeboy Critical Mass in the back With the bat to smack back all packs who try to jack me Just because I'm in a S-E-see Droptop A-M-G The cops say Mix-A-Lot's a dope dealer But I'm more like a dope deal sealer I sell rap deals, not drug deals Handin out contracts like meals The Rhyme Cartel, I own the motherfuckin label And Ricardo got the papers on the table And I'm signin 'em, just like that No sluts so my pockets stay fat A lot of clowns tried to take this town but they didn't Huh, cause Seattle wasn't bullshittin
[Attitude] Huh, nigga this is MY town, what you talkin [Mix-A-Lot] Punks tryin to tell me where I come from [Mix-A-Lot] Who the fuck you talkin to, clown? [Attitude] Need to shut the hell up, Seattle Tacoma strong [Mix-A-Lot] Shit, you was a young lil' rudy poot motherfucker [Mix-A-Lot] 'fore you picked up a nine millimete [Attitude] Who you smokin? [Mix-A-Lot] Punk-ass, cake, faggot ass nigga!
[Verse Three: Sir Mix-A-Lot] Let's take a trip to the South end, we go West Hit Reinert Ave and bust left I'm in a funky-ass Porsche Gambala No bitches, just women on my collar S-E-A-T-O-W-N Yo' nigga is back again Huh, who you callin sellout fool? I was puttin caps in clowns when you was still in school But I choose not to talk about that So many gangsta crews now, I'd rather kick back So I drop my own style Fuck bitin somebody else, and jumpin on a pile But that's another subject, gettin back to the hood Me and my boys is up to no good A big line of cars, rollin DEEP through the South end Made a left on Henderson Clowns talkin shit in the Southshore parkin lot Critical Mass is beggin to box But we keep on goin because down the streets A bunch of freaks in front of Reinert Beach, was lookin at US They missed that bus, and they figured that they could trust us Six cars in a line and the girls was fine I had "The Wicked One" playin on my Alpine Two Porsches, two Benzes, a Ferrari Testarossa And a Rolls Royce roaster Miami Vice tried to get with this, but they didn't Huh-huh, cause Seattle ain't bullshittin
Yeah I want to whassup to my DJ Punish? My boy Strange, across the water whassup LX? Bookie, Mark P, MC Fury The Group EQ, old forty ounce drinkin A.D. Always Dangerous PD2, Tribe, E.C.P. ready and willin Nasty Ness and Glen Boyd P.O.S., Brothers of the Same Mind L.S.R., High Performance Whassup Eightball? Kazzy D, Villains in Black J-1, E-Dawg, my boy T-Mack P.L.B., MC Kash My boy with the hookup on the 'zoid freak coordinator Bubba, DJ Skill and my boy are-10 Everybody in Seatown and T-Town!
Run for the hills cause the mack is back I'm hookin' up girls by fact If you're stacked You can rub a big mack I gotta gas So don't worry about scraps (no no) Five foot eleven with a seven foot game Gotta big mouth piece and I show no shame Monster kinky have no morals Monster loves to get oral (ummmm!) Got ten cars and the girls like that I was born and bred to be a mack Once your sign is played You gotta put a style in your game now a days In the sixty's girls was all hot LSD had 'em given up thigh The baby boom was on I drop No more woodstock but now you got Mix-A-Lot So put me in your CD changer Watch your girl cause Mix's a re-arranger Ooo, he's sexist Doo, he's sexist Keepin Rush Limbaugh restless Well I'm da' mack and that's monster Straight chase girls through the tail cause I wants to You can call it wack But you respect this black When it comes to game I'm a monster mack
-Chorus: Cause the Mix-A-Lot game is tough Big Mack, Cause the Mix-A-Lot game is tough I'm a monster mack Lookin for sex Bih bih bih big big mack
Strike the pose But she aint nasty as me Cause Mix-A-Lot is stuck on freaky Can't stop tappin that tweety Give it to the needy Nope, cause I'm too damn greedy Here I go walking through the mall Don't play ball But I got game for 'em all Focus on a victim, Focus on a victim Mr. Richard is hot so lets sick em And like a Tomahawk jumpin on a SCUD Girl you got to gimp my puhh The pick up king is back buddy Tryin' to give lessons to these thick ass ballers and understudies I'm not tryin' to call you no bitch girl Don't give a damn if your poor or rich girl And we can play a pool And I'm pokin' that 8-ball cool And the bootys I still like the bootys She got a little waist doin' squats just to keep me on my duty Giant size games what I droppin' Straight freaks with these thick ol' gluts is what I'm knockin' Now the right wing wanna test me If likin' sex is a crime then you arrest me But don't tell me who to sing to Jack Cause a third of your life is in the sack I'm a monster mack
-Chorus-
Drivin' my car by the bus stop Till I spot a young cutie straight suckin' down a soda pop Baby girl's winkin' Mix-A-Lot's thinkin' Hope this girl's feet ain't stankin' Here we go Swing by Franglors Get a little Soul Food Now you got a brother in the mood Damn gotta get her home with the quickness For this warriors a witness No need to put my girls on tilt Cause straight up game will get your milk The nasty dog is back With straight pimp game black Ain't no shame I'm a monster mack
Now I'm your big mal dropper, mud duck stopper Fila on the bottom and Adidas on the topper Transform scratchin', big beat matchin' I can tell you're getting jealous by the looks I'm catchin' I hate dumb skeezers, MC beaters Drop 5 grand on my bird white needer? (i have no idea, but i think it's watt meter) Smooth like ice, don't get nice Just turn up the box for the Mix-A-Lot slice (huh huh)
Y'all ready to get busy? (huh huh!) Now, buttermilk biscuits here we go SIFT the flour roll the dough Clap your hands and stomp your feet Move your butt to the funky beat (huh huh)
Buttermilk biscuits (x 3) (Lord have mercy Mix-A-Lot's our here rappin' about biscuits now)
We're from L.A. to the Carolinas Dip them suckers in Aunt Jemima Don't make a difference what food you make Use buttermilk biscuits to clean your plate You eat 'em in the morn', you eat 'em at night Kentucky Fried Chicken makes the suckers just right I am eat 'em with jelly it's my favorite deally Wrapped and sealed by a freak named Shelley (huh huh)
Buttermilk biscuits (x 3)
One day I kissed my freak, hit the street Looking for something to eat In a 18-wheeler, lookin' real swass All the girls smile 'cause I'm the big boss Said I gotta eat now, can't eat later Made a lot of noise to attract my waiter The boy walked up, and what did he say? "Say, buttermilk biscuits free today!" So what you waitin' on boy, get up shake a leg Gimme 10 of them suckers with grits and eggs A glass of Koolaid and a whole stick of butter Them biscuits make me a superfast cutter (huh huh)
Now grab that can and wrap it in your hand Bang that sucker till THE DOUGH EXPANDS PUT them suckers up in your oven Grab your girlie and get a little lovin' Add a BIT of honey if you want to get funny Microwave the suckers if you want your honey runny GONNA get naughty at the Mix-A-Lot party And rub them suckers all over your body (huh huh)
My Posse's on Broadway 2x's Verse 1 Me and Kid Sensation at home away from home In the black benz limo with tha cellular phone Im callin up my posse its time to get rippin Im freakin each sunroof to keep you suckas trippin Everybody's lookin if ya jealous turn around The AMG kip keeps us closa to the ground We're gettin good grip from the 50 series tires The Alpine's bumpin but I need the volume higher Cuz the 808 kick drum makes the girlies get dumb We're rollin Rainier and the jealous wanna get some Every time we do this sucka mc's wanna battle I'm the man they love to hate the J.R. Ewing of Seattle Picked up the posse on 23rd and Jackson Headin for the strip yes were lookin for some action The limos kinda crowded the whole car was leanin back Maharaji's watchin tv with two girlies on his lap On Martin Luther King the set looks kinda dead We need a new street so posse move ahead We all look kinda swass the crew you can't forget The mix a lot posse cold rippin up the set Chorus My posse's on Broadway My posse's on Broadway (posse up) My posse's on Broadway My posse's on Broadway Verse 2 Ahhhh rollin in my posse was getin kinda bored There's not anotha posse with more points scored We don't walk around like criminals or flex like big gorillas My homeboy Kid Sensation is a teenage lady killa Maharaji's on the def side dancin like a freak The girlies see his booty and their knees get weak Larry is the white guy people think he's funny A real estate investa who makes a lot a money Clockin lots a dollars we all got gold Cruisin in this Benz and ain't got no place to go Wheelin' 23rd we saw nuthin but thugs The girlies was to skinny from smokin all them drugs Cus the rock man got em and there butts just drop The freaks look depressed because the Benz wont stop At 23rd and Union the driver broke left Kevin shouted Broadway it's time to get def My girl blew me a kiss she said I was the best She's lookin mighty feaky in black silk dress The closa that we get the crazier I feel My posse's on Broadway it's time to get ill Chorus Verse 2 Crusin Broadway and my wheels spin slow Rollin with your posse is the only way to go The girlies by the college was lookin for a ride We tried to pick em up but we had no room inside We put em on the trunk we put em on the hood Some sat up with the driver they made him feel good The posse's gettin bigger there's much to many freaks My muffler is draggin my suspensions gettin weak Now the freaks are gettin hungry in Mix A Lot's treatin' We stopped at Taco Bell for some Mexican eatin' But Taco Bell was closed the girls was on my tip They said go back the other way we'll stop and eat at Dick's Dick's is the place were the cool hang out The swass like to play and the rich flaunt clout Posse to he burger stand so big we walk in twos Were gettin dirty looks from those other sucka crews Kid Sensation dropped a 20 and didn't even miss it this skeezer from another crew she picked it up and kissed it Her boyfriend's illin he went to slap her face My homeboy PLD cold sprayed the boy with mace Cus I never liked a punk who beat up on his girl If you don't have game then let her leave your world We took the girl with us With him she rode the bus She gave the boy the finger and the sukca starts to cuss Boy I got a def posse you got a bunch a dudes Your broke cold crying about the rock man blues Ya beat up on your girl and now your all upset She's with the Mix A Lot posse on the Broadway set chorus yeah brother you know what it is the posse's on Broadway 5 fella's and 22 freaks PLB!!!!!! yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah Get off my homeboys what is it
(Verse 1) Sir Mix-A-Lot bread the ultimate freak So cute in a suit, my beats can see Intelligent freak, wardrobe complete You can fold my robe, if you be my freak I got a big Cadillac with the bass in the back Try to take my freak, boy you must be whack Bicep's flex, so kiss my neck Buying pounds of gold with royalty checks And I'm Swass ...
(Chorus) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me
(Verse 2) Gold gettin live in a fresh fruit vest I'm the king of the beat in the Great northwest Packin more dollars than chase Manhattan A, after eaten sure my billfold fatten, yeah Yep, my phone be ringin like you wish yours would But my girl stays cool cause she looks so good Punk motherf**ker... call me weak Just turn up the bass and feel this beat Feel my bass drum ...
(Break) ("Stop it, get silly, swass") - 4X
("Stop it, get silly, swass") - backwards - 4X
(Verse 3) Now the ground be shakin, when my bass drum's breakin ("Stop it, get silly, swass") Suckers in the crowd think the boy be fakin ("Stop it, get silly, swass" - backwards) Now put this beat in your Nissan truck ("Stop it, get silly, swass") But don't start cryin when your woofers get stuck ("Stop it, get silly, swass" - backwards) Check it out ...
(*solo of the beat*) Hit bigger!
(Verse 4) I done 23 points when I count my bank All imitators I will spank I'm a freak and I know it, so why not show it I design my rhymes like a worldwide poet NEW freaks every week in my contract So cold with the rap you'll get contact Innovative beats with a brand new twist Don't you wish your man could rock like this Break it down ...
(Chorus)
(Verse 5) Eighty dollar slippers to wash my car It attracts more freaks than a beach lifeguard Ah, imitate me and you'll bring about pain Better wear dark shades when you look at my chain Swass, point, no introduction I come complete with freak instructions I work for myself don't have no boss Boy you gotta have brains if you wanna be swass And I'm swass ...
(Interlude - Female talking) Oh Mix-A-Lot you know I want to, Oh Mix-A-Lot you know I like you (backwards) - 4X
Got a real fine freek with a real big butt, She gets real ill when she hears my cut, Got two cadillacs one blue one gold, Got straps on the back with a fresh set of Vogues, Wheel on the back and grill on the front, 24 carrot gold on my trunk, Got a rope like a python hanging 'round my neck, And my freak in my arms cold kickin on the set, Never get ill cause im two damn SWASS, Got a funky trans-am with a duel exhaust, L.A. is fine but Seattle is my home, Hood ornaments gold cause i dont like chrome.
That's rippn'
That's rippin'
Chillin, never illin' in the place to be, Now I'm the m-i-x-a-l-o-t, On the West coast drive big Cadillacs, No white paint jobs with a wheel in the back. Sets talk smack, but they cannot hang, But you got to have brand of computerized game. You get mad cause your girl wants to play my, You know you want to hear it, put the record back on.
That's Rippin'
That's Rippin'
I'm real estate investor, hard core dresser, Money countin' brother and I hate polyester. Walkin' on the wild side, pullin' gold snaps.
I know you're gettin' jealous cause I got it like that. Cruise Broadway on my cellular phone, Spent a hundred thousand dollars on a brand new home. Dog in front yard, fence in the back, Freak by my side and a Fila hat.
That's Rippin'
That's Rippin'
Rip this!!
Rollin your Nissan, kickin' my beats, With my girl by my side lookin' oh so sweet, Got Fila on my feet and gold on my neck. Go cold carry cash cause I never write checks. Bankroll so big I can hardly hold it, You once had a dream but your Grandma stole it, Punched in her in the eye and took my bank back. You ever wonder why I'm like that? Cause I'm Rippin'
That's Rippin'
Yeeeaahh You like this beat, but it's time to change. Not gonna get ill, but I'm gonna get strange. Push yo partner, throw 'em in the isle Gonna kick live with the sqauredance style
All you wannabe gangstas, drivin' Volkswagens Chillin' at the high schools, broke but braggin' Under educated, your style is dated You talk behind my back and your rope's gold-plated But I'm back to take revenge, my beef will never end I'll tear your midsection, 'til your body start to bend Like a pistol, I'm a smokin' I'm crushin', not jokin' Whippin' sissies for a past time, and no I'm never chokin' I blow away suckers with the flicker of my index Not brass monkey, it's a natural reflex Go getter tactics, makin' suckers holla A vicious motherf**ker with a rope around my collar I carry lots a cash, I whip a sucker's ass I drive a big Caddy, and I pull the trigger fast Down at Arnold's on the Ave, I fight 'til the death I let you suck my in my chest, and then I break your damn neck I got the cold beats rippin', your needle's not skippin' So many damn weapons that the military's trippin' People in Seattle hate me, cause I'm not like a hood But you rock heads wish that you could
Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier
Now let's get one thing straight, my weapons are great You 22 automatic suckers are late Got a quarter Moon clip, and a Smith and Wesson I'm about to give you roody-poos a cold gun lesson I'm the wizard of mayhem, master of destruction Got a 44 mag, with the blunt instructions Page 1 says open, page 2 says feel Page 3 says cock, page 4 says kill A mini 14, full combat dress A thirty round clip, and I ain't takin' no mess Cause I'm a rough eyegrasser, a camouflage dresser My M16 has a flasher presser My Sterling mark six , it's funny but it hits It looks sideways but the sucker will kick A pack of dangerous beretta, kinda small but its good Some of you wannabes wish that you could
Be a hip hop soldier I'm a hip hop soldier
Now I'm about to get go, so I better clean up I'm not avigatin' crime, but you gotta get tough I don't believe in gun control, the theory is proven Give a criminal a gun, and your public is losin' For you gotta fight back, cause the pigs ain't black No protection in your section, now it's time to act A 22 won't due, you need rapid fire I'm a ammo gum gun buyer Big battle rifles, can make a suckers day You mess around with me so lot, you might get blown away Wearin' 5 gold rings, never intimidated In Seattle they are jealous, cause a brother has made it But they don't mess with me, cause they might get Iked I'm not a gay rapper, I don't like to get knifed The devil made me do it, and I wannabe good Don't you roody-poos wish that you could
Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ...
I'm runnin' hollow point bullets, in my 38 So if you plan to get ill, you better stay in your place Cause I'm not a game player, I'm just a rhyme sayer My vigilante group includes my mayor I pack two uzis cause they stop all crime You might get yours, but don't let me get mine I never beat woman, romance is better If a freak wants to leave, boy you might as well let her West coast rappers we all bust hard When we chillin' on the set, we never need a bodyguard People in Seattle hate me, cause I'm not like a hood Some of you wannabes wish that you could
Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier
You could strike a match in my hand too black to tan heavy metal rythem from a one man band bust my knuckles in a junkyard scuffle whippin adversaries with a brass belt buckle born in the ghetto hard like metal gotta '87 'vet with a fat gas pedal live a hard life shave wit a knife love to get freaky on the gloomiest nights
(chorus) got childhood scars from the streets of my life girls laugh now they beggin to be mix'a'lots wife a new breed is here vigilanties o' rap got eyes like fire wit my boys at my back now im back for revenge all the rumors must end quickie breathin is out whole music is in alot of dummies get paid just for clappin thier hands not the style or desire of a true iron man
oooh south side ruler dont drink cooler big money maker not a dumb drug user is real not drama paid pet llama met clint eastwood slapped his mama billboard thrilla avenue chilla hard rock lova and soft rock killa girls in the house watch yo blouse i am the man yo moma was warnin you about the bad boy of rap givin no slack talk behind my back and you might get slapped you might get paid but yo metal aint real your metals like mush this metals like steel!
(chorus)
big E gold crushin MC fussin more lines in my face than a sunburnt russin hardly ever speakin girls be tweakin buggin off the drums cuz my snare be peakin worlds most hated too bad ta be graded makin you mad and i 'm elated beat syncopater your bad im greater tougher than swarchinager in terminater guitar chord ripper perrrier sipper transboard scratcher and not a needle skipper fleash like steal mc steal mickey dees shrimp salad not part of my meal heavy drum begginer cant stand kidders hate funk metal and not a bullshitter girlies wanna kiss suckas throwin fists lotta rappas try ta rock but it aint like this!
THE IRON MAN OF RAP DROPPIN THE BIG METAL, HAMMER!
Here's a gory kinda story, 'bout an obese freak With a forty inch waist and a ten inch beak, Overweight and out of shape with a triple chin, Her brassiere strikes fear in the hearts of men,
The Girls a bremelo The Girls a bremelo
Me and Terry hopped a ferry, we were lookin Swass When a dip hit the ship we were almost tossed It was a big bremelo standing on my toe, An enormous jelly-belly tryin' to say hello I was really kinda frightened as she looked my way, I tried to run because here buns made the ferry sway To be blunt she was fat and ready for combat On the way to Bremerton where the fat is at, The Girls a bremelo.
Let's Go!
I'm not fakin' or mistaken' 'bout the big ol' duck, She had hairy underarms and a whoppin' gut, Her hair was short and wavy, drove my pit bull crazy, A (Bermitan)? beast chasin' fella's in the Navy, At the movie she's the feature, the Bremerton creature, Ya' wear a life jacket if ya ever try and freak her Look at her physique, she ain't my kinda freak, The floor creaks when the beast starts reaching her peak The Girls a bremelo. She's just a bremelo.
Change the beat!
You can't ignore the way she snores 'cuz she blows down doors, Baby's got the kinda face only a mother adores, A big basket ball head, with her ten inch feet, Big lips, No hips, with the smell of a beast, I couldn't put her in my Caddy or my tranny would break, I've heard of dirt because of poverty, but she took the cake, When it comes to Kool-Aidⓒ, the girl would drink it in pints, Ya go to school for twenty years and ya still in the ninth? Ya just a bremelo. Just a bremelo.
You big, triple chinned, unattractive duck, Ya boyfriend beats freaks up to make a buck, Hangin' 'round Third & Pike on a ten speed bike, you could say that I'm a liar, but ya know I'm right Ya talk behind my back because I dropped you flat, And ya never take a shower 'cuz ya too damn fat So ya man was smart when he broke your heart Because if Mix-A-Lot'd cut cha youd'a fell apart Wearing Polyesterⓒ slacks with elastic in the back You could flatten Schwarzenegger in a wrestling match Ya got lips like a character in some cartoon With a pink posterior ya big baboon Ya just a (Elephant Trumpet) (Elephant Trumpet)
Now Bremerton's a city right outside of mine, Most girls there are ducks but a few are fine But the ones that I speak about, use their faces catching trout, Vacuum cleaners for a mouth, You know what I'm talkin' 'bout Mud Ducks, Hocky Pucks, Drivers of Mackⓒ trucks, Lame brains, Deisel Trains, to pick them up you have to strain, Big Butt, Crew Cut, Extra-Ordinary Gut, Big Mamma kinda bod, make ya (?????????) kinda rough
(Intro - talking) Ha hee!, hee! Why Mix-A-Lot cotton picker you freak skinnin the cats Why don't you bring the beat on in here, cotton picker so I can get down (*yelling*) Put it up That's the way I like it there Mix-A-Lot Hey Mix-A-Lot, picks me up cotton picker Picks me up Mix-A-Lot
(Verse 1) Now everybody's rappin 'bout "where's their line?" I'm gonna bust me a brand new rhyme Girlfriend's down and you stomped her freak Shake your hips and act conceit Throw your head high in the air Grab your partner's derriere Fellas in the cut, I know you must be trippin My boy's got them there home girl's quippin Now grab your partner, take a bow If you can't dance, I'll tell you how Wave your hands and take two steps Grab your hips and slide to the left Get all in your partner's face Swerve to the side and show your lace If your a freak then let it show And grab your partner doshy-do (do, do ...)
(Verse 2) Now if you think your partner's fine Grab her where the sun don't shine If you can't dance, then tap your toes If your stuck up, turn up your nose Wave your hands from side to side Lean to the left and take a slide Other's DJs know their no match Just look to the stage and the song's that scratched
(*scratching*) (Male voice - talking) Rock me babe - 4X
(Verse 3) Freaks on the left and freaks on the right Grab your partner, hold him tight Put your hands in his Levi's Hold his rear while he grips your thighs The more you dance, the more I rap The big fat beat makes your toes tap Glen Campbell can't hang with this All you freaks give your man a kiss (look good)
(Verse 4) Now everybody on the floor clap your hands Stomp to the beat of the one man band Mix-A-Lot brings on the drum machine The bass line riff is "oh, so mean" Mix-A-Lot make a jam in his room With a full tape recorder you can bust jams too Throw your partner across your thigh Tickle her fast, until she starts to cry Whip her to the left, whip her to the right But don't whip her to hard cause her jeans are tight (look good)
(Chorus) Get your hands off that girl, boy Seattle rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) L.A. rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Miami rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) D.C. rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Carolina rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Houston, Texas rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Your momma rocks (to the, to, to, to the Square Dance Rap) London, England rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) To the Square Dance Rap, hot damn
(Outro - talking) Hey Mix-A-Lot, what in the world is that noise cotton picker? Sound like Grand Ole Opry Hear what I say Mix-A-Lot, say sound like Grand Ole Opry cotton picker Now before we end this filthy cut, we got a few things we have to say To the home girls sprung on the hum drum beat, check out Sir Mix-A-Lot Ray His style is fresh, so clean and new, he pulls so many tricks If you give him ten bucks and a brand new tape, he'll put you in the mix A haha, hey Mix-A-Lot I caught you that time, cotton picker
(Break) My beats are icky ... (*drums play until fade*)
(*sound of beeper going off, appears throughout song*)
(Sir Mix A-Lot) (Operator's voice) Beepers ... Beepers ... Beepers ... Beepers ... (Welcome to Sky Pager) Beepers (Press the pound key after each entry)
(Sir Mix-A-Lot) I'm rollin like a Playboy beep, beep, beep Just another page, just another freak Cops say I'm bangin, girls say I'm slangin Just cause my black Cross Courts be hangin Ah huh, that's it baby Beep diddy beep, will I call you maybe Sky Pager looks like a Phaser That's the attire of a Northwest player San Jose, I got a show Chillin like a champ with a girl in a limo There we go again, I got a beep The girl got nosy beggin for a peep Get off me girl, this is business I'm workin it and you can't witness A Oakland skeeso, how do I know Cause 415 was the area code Turn it off, turn it on, so I won't get busted You know rap stars never get trusted Baby wanna get so I put it on vibrate How does Mix-A-Lot communicate
(Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot) (Operator's voice) With beepers, baby, haha Beepers (Welcome to Sky Pager) Beepers (To use Sky Pager) Beepers (Press the pound key after each entry) Beepers (Please enter the pin number you wish) (Sky Pager) - 3X Beepers (Sky, Sky, Sky Pager)
(Sir Mix-A-Lot) 1-800-759-7243 But if you ain't got that pin number dummy, you can't call me To hook up with Mix you gotta call that number Then sit by the phone and wonder Will he call? If you're fine I might If you're a duck (*no dial tone sound*) good night I got a cellular but you can't have my digits Motorola beeps and the boy gets with it Code one, two (Yo come on black you gonna tell her about me, what's up with that?) That's Attitude Adjuster, my homey Huggin more girls than Bella Karoli Gettin 'em sprung, bustin 'em out Rollin up dames, cause he's got that clout Pullin young females, yank 'em on the stage One fell prey when she called that page (*numbers dialing sound*) called his beeper Sweetie got sprung but he might not keep her He never called back, so she called me (Where's Attitude at? He was supposed to meet me) I don't know but I'm wishin you luck How does Attitude Adjuster hook up?
(Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot) (Operator's voice) With beepers (If you wish to send message 777-9311) With beepers (Enter telephone number or numeric message Press the pound key now)
(Sir Mix-A-Lot) Pagers, call 'em what you want Some brothers some brothers wear fake ones, still tryin to flaunt Walkin in a party, lookin like Joker Big ole six inch garage door opener Not me, cause my bank is set Three dope Benzos, one Corvette I'm not braggin or movin them thangs Just clockin them dollars at the real estate game (Sky Pager) Telepage Northwest, satellite service pushed to test Got a beep from a girl named Natalie My memory slip, cause I need a new battery Power on, display light's up Incoming calls from the girls with butts Girls call cause they might get lonely Ha .. I run 'em like ponies Pick 'em up, put 'em in the Benzo I get a beep and I leave 'em in limbo That's right I'm livin like that What do I keep pinned to the strap
(Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot) My beeper ... Beepers ... Beepers ... Beepers ...
(Sir Mix-A-Lot) Oh yeah, girls got 'em too They keep 'em in their purse, plain and cool Big players, rollin up fellas They comin up but they never will tell us Smooth, ha, I bet you didn't know The girl you called dumb was clockin your dough Jackin ball players and never gettin tossed Done worked every brother on the Seahawks Yeah, she looks good, but she thinks she's swift Tryin to pull up on the Mix-A-Lot tip Sittin in the movie, she stepped out smooth Oh baby girl, I got one too
(Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot) (Operator's voice) A beeper ... (Sky Pager) -2X Beepers ... (Sky Pager) Beepers ... (Sky Pager) Beepers ... (Sky Pager) (Enter telephone number) Beepers (Or numeric message 777-9311) Beepers ... (If you wish to send message) ... (Sky Pager) ... (If you wish to send message) ... (Sky Pager) ...
Huey B. Newton shot in cold blood in west Oakland Oliver North receives community service hours for selling weapons to known terrorists Tawana was brutally raped, but two fools said she did it to herself A six hundred million dollar stealth bomber fails to fly successfully And you say I should be proud of this song Think about it AMERICA!
I'm living like hell in a world of death Protectors of the people wear bullet-proof vests Your little nephew, flipped him a Uzi Took to the streets, shot em up and then "Who me?" Locked in a trunk by Republican villains Pinstripe suits, experts at killin' Civil war, but some want out Trapped in a box called the ghetto we shout Headin' for the strip 'cause the squares ain't hip Sell a couple keys, make the home boys trip The president is a dope man's friend The governments strong but the dope got in Punish the accused, but the trial was short A black man's dogged in a all white court The jury dismissed, prosecutor says, "Can em" Now I'm ashamed of my national anthem
The pentagon had a plan for a rescue They said intelligence never makes miscues The thirty-first was a day of death Lieutenant Colonel Higgins, you know the rest No negotiations with a terrorist force But Iran's still buzzin' offa Oliver North The Ayatollah's dead but the hearts not gone The burning of the flag in Iran goes on Anti-American, we're loved by few We pay big money to the ones that do The christian militia, they give us big knowledge But the pentagon messed up and wouldn't acknowledge Ollie took orders from the number one man But the crap hit the fan and superiors ran Democrats tripped, the committee said can em Now I'm ashamed of my national anthem
Am I a communist? No. But my brain ain't slow Not long ago, Mix-a-Lot was po' Never helped out by the ones with clout I was mad at the world cause I felt left out Stealin' hub caps, stereos, anything to get paid I realize I'm a modern day slave Posse downtown, the sight was set I saw my home boys mother with a buggy and a bag People walk by, laughin' at poverty I looked in her face and I soon saw me College educated, but she can't get a job The American Dream once again got robbed Vietnam vets on the street, that's a shame Fight for the man, and the man plays games Dogged by the hippies, dope smokin' critics You blame it on the soldier, but your government did it
My national anthem My national anthem You gonna teach me now about the care and feedin' of politicians
Bolivia, Columbia, the CIA Any similarities, I won't say But the dope gets in, uncut like P-Funk Headin' over borders in a scent-free trunk Coffee over dope, but the dog can't sniff it Remember that lady that was broke, she's widdit Started with a key, clocked 17 G's Then got another shipment, pure D Headin' for Brumlen, the money was betta Rollin in a Porsche, in a cashmere sweater Crime, revenge, I'm tellin' you this The people that laugh are the people that knows Her community complained, callin' the police But where was the community when she was in the street Dope's comin' in, it's killin' em at random And I'm ashamed of my national anthem
My national anthem My national anthem My national anthem I'm ashamed of my national anthem
My hooptie rollin', tailpipe draggin' Heat don't work an' my girl keeps naggin' Six-nine Buick, deuce keeps rollin' One hubcap 'cause three got stolen Bumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin' Mis-matched tires, and my white walls flakin' Hit mickey-d's, Maharaji starts to bug He ate a quarter-pounder, threw the pickles on my rug Runnin', movin' tabs expired Girlies tryin' to dis 'n say my car looks tired Hit my brakes, out slid skittles Tinted back window with a bubble in the middle Who's car is it? Posse won't say We all play it off when you look our way Rollin' four deep, tires smoke up the block Gotta roll this bucket, 'cause my Benz is in the shop
My hooptie - my hooptie
Four door nightmare, trunk locks' stuck Big dice on the mirror, grill like a truck Lifters tickin', accelerator's stickin' Somethin' on my left front wheel keeps clickin' Picked up the girlies, now we're eight deep
Cars barely movin', but now we got heat Made a left turn as I watched in fright My ex-girlfriend shot out my headlight She was standin', in the road, so I smashed her toes Mashed my pedal, boom, down she goes Law ain't lyin', long hairs flyin' We flipped the skeez off, dumb girl starts cryin' Baby called the cops, now I'm gettin' nervous The cops see a beeper and the suckers might serve us Hit a side street and what did we find? Some young punk, droppin' me a flip off sign Put the deuce in reverse, and started to curse Another sucker on the south side about to get hurt Homey got scared, so I got on Yeah my group got paid, but my groups still strong Posse moved north, headin for the CD Ridin' real fast so the cops don't see me Mis-matched tires got my boys uptight Two Vogues on the left, Uniroyal on the right Hooptie bouncin', runnin' on leaded This is what I sport when you call me big-headed I pot-hole crusher, red light rusher Musher of a brother 'cause I'm plowin' over suckers
In a hooptie
It's a three-ton monster, econo-box stomper Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll romp 'er Dinosaur rush, lookin' like Shaft Some get bold, but some get smashed Cops say the car smokes, but I won't listen It's a six-nine deuce, so the hell with emissions Rollin' in Tacoma, I could get burned (Sound of automatic gunfire) Betta make a u-turn Spotted this freak with immense posterior Tryin' to roll smooth through the Hilltop area Brother start lettin' off, kickin' that racket Thinkin' I'm a rock star, slingin' them packets I ain't wit' dat, so I smooth eject Hit I-5 with the dope cassette Playin' that tough crew hardcore dope The tape deck broke Damn what's next, brothers in Goretex Tryin' to find a spot where we could hunt for sex Found a little club called the N-C-O Military, competition. You know. I ain't really fazed, 'cause I pop much game Rolled up tough, 'cause I got much fame "How ya doin' baby, my name is Mixalot" "Mixalot got a Benz boy, quit smokin' that rock" Ooooh, I got dissed. But it ain't no thing Runnin' that game with the home made slang Baby got ished, Bremelo gip. Keep laughin' at the car and you might get clipped
By a hooptie
Runnin' outta gas, stuck in traffic Far left lane, throwin' up much static Input, output, carbeurator fulla soot "Whatcha want me to do Mix?" Push freak, push Sputter, sputter rollin' over gutters Cars dip low with hard core brothers Tank on E, pulled into Arco Cops on tip for Columbian cargo We fit a stereotype, that's what he said Big long car, four big black heads Cops keep jockin', grabbin' like 'gators 'Bout stereotypes, I'm lookin' nuthin' like Noriega Cop took my wallet, looked at my license His partner said "Damn, they all look like Tyson" Yes, I'm legit, so they gotta let me go This bucket ain't rollin' in snow
1 데이브 차펠의 A Moment In the Life of Lil Jon
그리고 하나 더 : Dave Chapelle - A Moment In The Life Of Lil Jon (병원)
2 써 믹스-어-랏의 Baby Got Back
3 나몰라 패밀리
웃찾사 04월27일 방영분
...
