Lyrics:
the hint and rise) And thanks a lot for the gold
and frankincense but...don't worry too much about the
myrrh next time. Thank you...Goodbye.
[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
just so round, it's like, out there, I mean— gross. Look!
She's just so... black!
[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers
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
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,
a lot x2
She tell me she want me to dig her out
U kno baby got back I'm sir mix a lot
If u run up on me den u getting shot
We can fight or u kno we can
toward South Shore, wrong way homey
This street's for Mix-A-Lot's posse only
Looked in his mirror saw my big gold grill
Ain't no place to run so you
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
for my village, yeah
I do it for my pe (Aye, yes, sir)
And the blood drippin' by the gallons (Grr)
Dolo in the whip, I solo any clique
It's not
I got, big rocks, big chain, big watch
Big beans, big Glocks, big bales, big blocks
All gold Rollie, no tick tock
Fuck your ho, in my flip flops
a...Gold digga, gold digga, gold digga yeah.
[Luda]
She's dreaming schemin on a way to get your dough
She hit a lot of reelin now hit the flow, you just
the Crowbar with some common sense
You can stay hella bent, I be at the water stackin presidents
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 2: Sir Mix-A-Lot ]
One of these
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
own man nah I don't need a teacher
Got a lot of flavors but I swear it gets sweeter
Got a lot layers peel back like chiquita
I still mix a little bit
live Mix-A-Lot
You understand motherfucker I'ma hard rock
Beat 'em up and pick 'em up and make 'em miss the stick up
But my gat close range, take his
I once knew a brother
Who talked when he was lost
Made a lot of his thoughts mood
And paid to play the part
Practiced praying advancely
Well ahead
Hum V (V)
I'm surrounded by these RBGs
(HEeee!!)
We get green, roll green, and eat green like sebi
Born in them 80's
I clown like I'm Bailey
This
more like diamonds and gold
He out of control, he out of control, he out of control, yes sir
He under control, he under control, he out of control , okay
colors
Red, blue yellow and many others
Purple , orange , lime green
Pink , grey and aquamarine
Let's learn to mix them, one by one
Mixing different
I got, big rocks, big chain, big watch
Big beans, big Glocks, big bales, big blocks
All gold Rollie, no tick tock
Fuck your ho, in my flip flops
[ 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!'
bag, clean mix
Stretch out the pack, clean mix
Stretch out the rocks, clean kicks
Fresh out the box, beat sticks
New whips fresh out the lot
Ooh
Sports-Illustrated model all in my condo
Ice in the pot
In the trap, I'm Sir Mix-a-Lot
'Bout to spend a mill on a car lot
Streets dried up
Get tied up for small packs
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