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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
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
that, youknowhatI'msayin?
Night is in the air

Enemy.. on the borderline
Who'll be the next to fire
forty-one shots by Diallo's side?

You said he
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
gay guys having sex.

[Adam Sandler]:
Well no sir, you are dead wrong.

[Man]:
Alright.

[Adam Sandler]:
Thanks for stopping by. Wow, interesting. Two
Giddy up go stayed right on him
Until the next truck stop where he'd pulled up
I waited till he went in and I offered to buy him a cup
Well we got
Giddy up go stayed right on him
Until the next truck stop where he'd pulled up
I waited till he went in and I offered to buy him a cup
Well we got
Get busy!

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,
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
that, youknowhatI'msayin?
Night is in the air

Enemy.. on the borderline
Who'll be the next to fire
forty-one shots by Diallo's side?

You said he
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
Wahlberg was Marky Mark
This is how we used to make the party start
We used to mix hen' with Bacardi Dark
And when it kicks in you can hardly talk
And by
do show some respect to few
This ecstacy has got me standin next to you
Gettin sentimental as fuck, spillin' guts to you
We just met but I think I'm
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
stayed right on him
Until the next truck stop where he'd pulled up
I waited till he went in and I offered to buy him a cup
Well we got to talkin' shop
To all of my jiggas and mic emcees
Hand inna the sir if you love ladies

If yuh can show yuh hand
You a chi chi, you're not in my category
Rollin' my
collapse rap shows at a standstill
Some racial circuits the frequencies can't handle
The funk tracks produced by EPMD
But it's a fat jam, that will never
wife because of it
But I got this life because of it
Told ya, game don't never get old

[Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking]
Yeah don't grab the game bull by
There's a lot of people out here 
Who just don't know 
What plays a factor 
In movin' heads and toes 

It be them hits 
Hangin' out of them
Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show
The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes
If you want to playa hate
Eat a big 'ole snake

It's

Down

311

311

311

1995

collection
It's your mix, congratulations

We've changed a lot and then some some
Know that we have always been down down
And if I ever didn't thank you
it's often out of tune
And there are lots of broken fingers
In the dark parts of my room

Please don't touch
Please don't stop and stare
Yes I thank you
wrote
But i wrote rhymes, that burn every time
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
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