Lyrics:
spencer and get "denace the menace"
What this meant is I'll dent his head in
And set him up next to his dead friend, so yes man
I'm guessing that you can
sofa up the stairs all by himself
So I, I say to him, I say "Hey, you want me to help you with that?"
And Marty, he just rolls his eyes and goes
"No,
I wrote a note to sir James explaining I couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep. I can't sleep. Make sure I'm up by 8.
I turned on the clock radio.
The only
or handle the pity
All I see is lots of titties
I know bunch of hippie chicks
That's ready to show me tricks
They doing the splits
I'm all up in the mix
that long
Where a lot of people get
Poked up and clapped on
My job really putting on for the city
You get popped like a wheelie for
Saying some old silly
and a whole lot of show
And with Hank Junior blaring on the radio
We got a tank full of gas and we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
the finest food
Hop you up on the dinner table I wanna taste of you
Little Miss Pikachu can I take a picture too
Promise I'll cherish every pixel like I was
said "Well take off your gun, if you want to get done
An' I'll show you that I ain't the one"
The cop rolled up his fist
Puts the handcuffs on my
an unbelievable night
I called it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in
Hit the spot, spot my next victim
I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'
Came to sip vodka, shit
[ 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!'
to get off into that brand new Snoop Dogg produced by Pharrell
So everybody in the city tonight
I want to you roll your window down and turn the music up
the presentation to the Audience
It is now up to the audience to appreciate the finished work
To apply seasoning without tasting is an insult by an uncultured,
sit by the radio, hands on the dial tune
As you hear it, pump up the volume
Jump when you hear them speakers let it off (off, woo)
Mr. VA 'bout
with Dean
Real player-ism and that's no joke
Snort a lot of coke with ho's that like to smoke
I was makin' records but wasn't makin' money
You can take
to spit a lot of game
But back then, I was just saying my name
I had a record player, on my stereo
Got down on my knees with my radio
From Oakland
you just sit there ignorin'
Even though you wake up feeling like shit every mornin'
But you're young, you've got a lot of drugs to do
Girls to screw,
you just sit there ignorin'
Even though you wake up feeling like shit every mornin'
But you're young, you've got a lot of drugs to do
Girls to screw,
'Cause these pop melodies ain't fucking with me
Get back on your tour bus roll some broccoli
I'll leave your crews twisted and your hoes knock kneed
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
sit by the radio, hands on the dial tune
As you hear it, pump up the volume
Jump when you hear them speakers let it off (off, woo)
Mr. VA 'bout
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
As you
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
As you
And ironically, when you do it that way
More people end up saved
I paved my way by scrapin' it
You ain't never seen a nigga
Like me, if you did
I guarantee they was
all my people roll blunted
Your man froze when I rolled up
I symbolize death like a cobra
Attacks your life here it's over
Black you effed up
Never
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