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Mix Tape

This song could be between any two others
You only hear it when you play it on your mix tape
Made for you by your best friend before
only reach for the peach if it's peachy clean (that's right)
I only reach for your spot and release the steam (come on)
A-town, we release the kings
D-nice, the beat box
I only wear Nike's, not Adidas or Reeboks
Many people know me, yet I'm known by few
My name is KRS-One, son
Not two or three
wake
I slip only when P-Nut gets me baked from that shake

Yeah you can't fuck with this
You're Walter Middy don't take it as a dis
But the fantasy has
wake
I slip only when P-Nut gets me baked from that shake

Yeah you can't f*** with this
You're Walter Middy don't take it as a dis
But the fantasy has
[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
tapes

I got a Panasonic with a set of fifteens
Black with the silver grill, shining, lookin' clean
Glove on my right hand, face on lean
I keep it by
to juggle y'all was crumbs who didn't notice me
But now you see me in a magazine, on your TV screen
On the radio liver stereo lookin' clean
All of a sudden
pulling up on whips with the grill
And if that slab only got fo' you know, it's missing a wheel
'Cause I'm a Texas tycoon, flat T-V screens in my room
So
over love is ancient artifacts

If I could only find a note to make you understand
I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand
Keep it
ancient artifacts

If I could only find a note to make you understand
I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand
Keep it stuck inside your
Come by when you get off work
I'll be sitting around doing nothing
Let's wait till the sun goes down
Then we'll drive off deep into the night
wouldn't get right
Cause I was aware as a square in Delaware
Execs writing checks for sex in spandex
Radios gettin' sucked by labels under the table
Mix
know I'm equipped with Clorox
and chemicals that'll burn off your lip
Intestines investments hide money in your stomach
Who can stop Pepto Bismol?
Only
over love is ancient artifacts

If I could only find a note to make you understand
I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand
Keep it
Let's take it back to the Maritimes Man
You can't take yourself so serious
Do that thing you guys were doing

Failure called the venture
Roll
Way back in the 50's - you never said a wrong word
People were clean - people were mean
Children should be seen, but children should be not heard
D-nice, the beat box
I only wear Nike's, not Adidas or Reeboks
Many people know me, yet I'm known by few
My name is KRS-One, son
Not two or three
flexin', nigga
All this Remy Martin, I might mix it with some Rosay
Heavy rotation on the radio, you get no play
Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball go
a menace, without enough time
My mind only give punchline, you probably thinking of the wrong kind
Cause if it jokes, nigga know
The kind that drop on your
On the radio liver stereo, lookin' clean

All of a sudden I'm attractive, I'm handsome, I'm gorgeous
But back in the day you used to say, you can't afford
no abortion, had a son
By the name of Seven
And he's five
By the time I do this mix, he'll probably be six
You do the arithmetic
Me do the language
sorry I kept you
Thinking of this  you keep repeating you miss
The rhymes from the microphone soloist
And you sit by the radio  hand on the dial  soon
I'm sorry I kept you 
Thinking of this  you keep repeating you miss 
The rhymes from the microphone soloist 
And you sit by the radio  hand
sorry I kept you
Thinking of this  you keep repeating you miss
The rhymes from the microphone soloist
And you sit by the radio  hand on the dial  soon