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[Verse 1 - Sir Mix-A-Lot]
1977 was a no cocaine in my hood-ject
The brothers was stuck on Chuck without a mind set
I got tired of watchin "Good
automatic, give it to 'em one time
They come back like addicts.

I got new shoes on the ride (yes sir)
Rollin' down 95 (yes sir)
And you can see in my eyes
"Mix-A-Lot" - 4X
I'll Roll You Up
Yeah, how many players we got in the house?
(*yelling in background*)
How many Playboys we got in the house?

[Sir Mix-A-Lot
got childhood scars in the streets of my life
Girls laughed, now they beggin' to be Mix-A-Lot's wife
The new breed is here, vigilante's of rap
Got eyes
it on, so I won't get busted
You know rap stars never get trusted
Baby want to get so I put it on vibrate
How does Mix-A-Lot communicate

[ 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?
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
got two
Stop by and have a good time its popping’ at snoops
Got a whole lot of this and I mix it with that
Me and timberland remember we bringin’ it
I'm attractive, I'm handsome, I'm gorgeous
But back in the day you used to say you can't afford this
I wreck shops and got props from New York to Cali
Rudy Currence
And me, I go by the name of Ludacris, right
And it's a lot of people out there claim that their voices
Let me know the truth, Bossa is
'cause a *** horny
Now I'm in the parking lot, baby all over me
Ay, ay, wait a minute ha, let's go

It's about 3 in the morning
Got my thang, cocked 'cause
[Intro - Sir Mix-A-Lot (Female voice)]
(Peek a boo)
This is the true story about a young lady I know
(Peek a boo)
A walkin' zombie, product
Traded in the trucks for a silver drop top
Drug money flowin'
Jealousy is growin'
Paranoia got him second guessin'
D-T's on his back got him stressin'
But now he back on the Southern bricks, we gon' drink a lot and players smoke Newport
Uptown, hit the blush, or watch these diamonds blind you up
I got pulled over in west Texes
So they could look inside my car
He said are you an American citizen
I said 
Yes sir
So far
They made sure I
(I got one on each arm)
Double Up

I'm back up in the VIP, in a cloud of smoke
Be poundin, surrounded by all my folks
Give me another shot, damn
Daytons in his hand
Keys in his hand, reason again to let you know he's the man
Back when we rocked Ellesses, he had dreams of Caprices
Drove by
back-back then-then if you had a car
You was the Chi-Town version of Baby
And I was just a virgin, a baby
One of the reasons I looked up to him crazy
might be upset, your dad and I got something in common
Your mom kissing both our babies right before bed
And like me or not, bitch I'm 'bout to light me
girls killing ants in the kitchen. Peace baby.)

I'm a poor man's version of a rich man
I've got a small van swerving through a big land
I've got
pack heat
Got turned out early by them scandalous freaks
Addicted to crime so I stay in the mix
With a love for hoochie chicks and pulling jewelry
And takes a girl pretty far
So now my name's in lights about the title
Or it's not on the dotted line
On the back-lots now, I call the shots now
back-back then-then if you had a car
You was the Chi-Town version of Baby
And I was just a virgin, a baby
One of the reasons I looked up to him crazy
it's done, 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
the swag (swag)
And it's fresh off the lot, you can tell by the tag, what's up?

It's about three in the morning (ay)
Gotta leave with