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Search results for 'sprung on the cat by sir mix a lot'
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an' a brother like Mix don't slip 'Cause them girls will put that cat right on ya And don't say I didn't warn ya Go down to the beach See the girls
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
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
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
[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
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees sir Yes sir I think about money all day that's facts Go and get that, get a little more By night time man I'm up in that cat Plug keep calling with
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
past this test You got pimped like a straight up sap Paid money 'cause you're sprung on the cat Huh! 'Bout thirty-five Gs and now you're through
can you be a hustler? Not if you is an undercover busta [Verse 1: Sir Mix-a-Lot] What about this motherfucking aintsta Wannabe gangsta Sittin' in
to be defeated By some freak mix of Shady friends Who may try to make this beef stick But any chance that my foot wont' snap off Into their greasy ass,
took a one-year hiatus Ain't nobody heard my latest You thought Mix-a-Lot was through But I'm back; this boot's on you What happened to all the old
hiatus Ain't nobody heard my latest You thought Mix-a-Lot was through But I'm back; this boot's on you What happened to all the old homies? When
Malibu on my yacht (twenty-five hoes) I got twenty-five M's in the bank, no cap, no lie (yes sir) (twenty-five) Run up an M, ain't trickin' (run it up)
[Talking] Yo, it's T2 and S.L.A.B It's a remix, yes sir [Trae] They say that I'm not wrecking, I'm about to teach 'em a lesson How niggaz get
pollinated by the "Be" Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete How do you define divine that finds street? "Hip bop," the color of my leaves Not
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
giving niggas, what did we call it back then? Dirt naps But nowadays they still singing our praise Know how to raise a lot of hell up Or else your
are created equal. That they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights. That among these rights are Life, Yes sir!, Liberty,
sound she better hope, that you better mind mix me over my, debt (left,let?) be wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide! (whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!) Submitted by
Last night, I had a dream I found myself in a desert called Cyberland It was hot My canteen had sprung a leak and I was thirsty Out of the abyss
looking at your cat I can see it's fat I hope that the cat don't steal my tongue We'll be waking in the morning with somebody sprung Call me Captain Hook
true, sir. We're Who's who, sir. I'm a Who and so is she Mayor & Mrs. Mayor: We're tiny little people blowing by in the air, Wonder how and why We're
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