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[Sir Mix-A-Lot]
Tightly knit, my script is legit
I'm force feedin competition, more rebel shit
Rhymes on a roll, cold yet bold
I did "Posse
to kiss, suckers throw a fist
A lot of rappers try to rap, but it ain't like this

[Sir Mix-A-Lot talking]
Ha haha ha, the true Iron Man of rap droppin' this
national anthem

Verse Three: Sir Mix-a-Lot

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
[Verse 3 - Sir Mix-A-Lot]
Criticized by the main stream
For not bein the house jig and keepin things squeaky clean
But I can't, so I ain't
But I won't play
Whodini disappeared and Doug E. Fresh went stale
And I think Sir Mix-A-Lot got into some bad ale
The Fat Boys broke up and then one of 'em died
And when I
(ya)
Is the Jungle Brothers (yeah)
On a black piece of wax (yeah)
My name is Mike G (uh huh)
On the mix is Sammy B
First in line to kick the rhyme,
I just keep moving forward
I got places to go, man, let's go

When the Armageddon's dark and dread
A lot of weak-hearted weep and moan
Only the strong
seven-nine three one one)
With beepers
(Enter telephone number or numeric message
Press the pound key now)

[Sir Mix-A-Lot]
Pagers, call 'em what you
promoter best friend
Put yo money on me if you want win
Lot of rappers sittin' home on the weekend
Got a waitin' list shawty put y'all off in
Can't move
other rappers, man, they got the gall
To even think they on my level
Sports-Illustrated model all in my condo
Ice in the pot
In the trap, I'm Sir
[ INTRO: Chris Rock ]
...All this ill shit
This fuckin Sir Mix-A-Lot shit
What the fuck is this shit?
See the shit's video?
'PUT IT ON THE GLASS!'
Uh!

I did good in my hood as a youngster
The Heavster was never a punkster, no sir
No ma'am, hot damn, me and Michael Jackson jammed
I dug Soul
Puttin my finger against NASA
When I die, bronze my mic, preserve it for newcomers
to visit my gravesite like a shrine
Rappers'll line up faithfully, just
a visit I pay - and does it pay!"
And his friend, Liquid Len by name,
Of Wine, Women and Wandsworth fame,
Said "I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that
same thang  game came when I left em 
I do it by my lonely now I'm the Big Homie 

But I'm his Royal Slickness  ghetto weakness  come Rick is
a whole lot of rappers make a whole lot of noise (hey) 
Lyrics full of steroids, niggaz paranoid (hey) 
And when you get that blowup, it make you throw up
the dirt 

'Cause a whole lot of rappers make a whole lot of noise (hey) 
Lyrics full of steroids, n****z paranoid (hey) 
And when you get that blowup,
sure seem rude
For fam like the partridges, pardon him for the mix-up
Battle for your Atari cartridges or put your kicks up, it's a stick up

Now put
a thing for a brother like me
Uncle Sam want to buy another missile (yep)
Strip Mix-a-Lot straight down to the gristle (mm)
I made a few mil'
On mad mix shows I got wreck off the mind
But what's in a rhyme, if it don't sound tight?
You ask me if a lot of rappers are wack man you damn right
a lot of rappers are wack man you damn right
Who's to say these brothers from l.a.
Will take charge like debarge and shine, in a special way?
I say
say that I'm attractive
They describe my love and that's being hyperactive
I'm just a brother who likes to romance alot
Look at me as the black Sir
Yo, a lot of rappers holler tough stuff, they don't live it
When you hear me emceeing I'm speaking from experience
Keynote speaker, rock funk freaker
pay off
A lot more done you give a nigga one day off'
He took my advice, 'stead a yell again
Sir noticed that my input was accurate intelligence
pay off
A lot more done you give a nigga one day off'
He took my advice, 'stead a yell again
Sir noticed that my input was accurate intelligence