Search results for 'big screen by sir mix a lot'

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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
[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
I'm Big Willie, you silly Sally from the valley
Ain't nuttin changed... wait a minute, I'm a liar
The crib is definitely doper and the girls a lot
big metal hammer
(*voice yelling over Sir Mix-A-Lot*)
Now that's true metal, posse up, yeah
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
on that South Lee, with Big Mix and my boy Lil' Heat
Where's the drank I'm runnin' low, Cabbage Head told me it's a drought
But not to worry dough never
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
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
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,
Every sailor's son
Is taught when they are young
That the pull of the moon lingers on
Something we can't escape
From Bimini 'round the cape
[ 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?
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
the Crowbar with some common sense
You can stay hella bent, I be at the water stackin presidents


[ VERSE 2: Sir Mix-A-Lot ]
One of these
the box for the Mix-A-Lot slice (huh huh)

why'all ready to get busy? (huh huh!)
Now, buttermilk biscuits here we go
Zip the flour roll the dough
Clap your
Beach where I and I man reach
Living up, living up, living up, living up

So I roll in the lot, flipped down my screen
Turn on my DVD you know what I mon
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
of the big screen danced in her head
'In a matter of time' she said
Jessie never got her Hollywood role
And the pogo nights have taken there toll
She can
on the mix
I'ma show you where the pain and the poetry is
Ghetto young'ns spend a lot of time alone in the crib
Bet on the screen, walls and posters of big
And his eyes got big and bright as he read Giddyup go
Oh we had a lot of things to talk about and buddy I felt like a king
And now we've just pulled back
And his eyes got big and bright as he read Giddyup go
Oh we had a lot of things to talk about and buddy I felt like a king
And now we've just pulled back
allways down to work then
Until I got stretched out in the pen
Now I'm the stereotype...

So, yeah, i get it all from the big screen
Showin' black girls
money 'cause I finance my own campaign. 
I ain't for sale. 

I keep a fat bankroll in my pocket baby, 
Big as a hay bale, yes sir
Now I want
to the big time
You need big time looks
A shady accountant
Who can cook the books
A couple of well-placed friends
Some dynamite eight by tens
Before you
hammer on a convoy
Mix-A-Lot on the stage I'ma (ROUGH BOY)
Yes so rough boy, creepin up the backside
Mix-A-Lot sign 'em up for the (BIG FIGHT)