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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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