Lyrics:
Mama taught me how to fold my clothes,
Mama taught me how to be respectful,
cnd daddy taught me how to use common sense,
cnd daddy taught me how
She wants the earth moved
Jackhammer no
My tool's multifunction
I'm finna get down deep in her tum tum
Sir mix a lot of styles just to up the fun some
I know lots of shorties, but I've never met a princess, yes sir
Blowing up my inbox, and the molly help me answer
She got too far, now she want me
saw was some little skater kid
Come runnin by with a test tube, one of them glass ones.
Oh man, I'll check the news
And find out what the hell's
move
Can’t control the world, control my attitude
Verse 1:
Windy Hill by the Western Inn I was stressed
Sleeping in the whip, peanut butter dip, with
Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show
The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes
If you want to playa hate
Eat a big 'ole snake
It's
love being all by my lonely and matching myself, cause only in I who I trust
Copped me a zip and said fuck it and went made music on behalf of the buds
And it took a lot of pain just to learn what she meant
Yea all these demons in me baby I'm just tryna vent
Yea all this trauma in me that shit stuck like
would move slower
Or that I could go back in time
Well, I'm just a down home southern
Lord, I don't need nothing just enough to get me by
And I was
a new street, so posse move ahead
We all look kinda suave, the crew you can't forget
The Mix-A-Lot Posse, cold rippin' up the set
My Posse's On Broadway
mama got home, they turned into a threesome,
Her mama ate the pussy while her daddy doggy sounded,
The family freak together and they also laid
know the
Fucking half of what I've
Fucking been through!
Well, Sir Isaac Newton said the law of energy
Is, "Energy is not lost or destroyed
It is merely
that's the case
Well then, I guess my daddy, wasn't, the mailman
(Fuck him)
Sappy pappy sapping happy from the air man
Double dare me to have a tantrum
Daddy wasn't home where he at though?
Daddy wasn't home where he at though?
Most of these Daddy's out here a GPS lock on their neck
And they still can't
better go home where it's warm
You can live in the love of the common people
Smiles from the heart of the family man
Daddy's gonna buy her a dream
Ok, JME Skepta big up Ribs, whats gwarning
Big up Reggie you dunknow
Soon coom home yeah
Yeah, thrown in the bin, thrown in the bin
Your CD get's
goes like this
Back when Mark Wahlberg was Marky Mark (fuckin' faggot)
This is how we used to make the party start
We used to mix Hen' with Bacardi
goes like this
Back when Mark Wahlberg was Marky Mark (fuckin' faggot)
This is how we used to make the party start
We used to mix Hen' with Bacardi
her man name was Pimp Daddy Hustler Stack Money
A big time drug dealer from around the way
Slingin' rocks, makin' G's everyday
He drove a big fat
your name especially
In drug game
They call me bigg daddy cane
Don't get tricked by these hoe that's a pimp lane
Strapp. up or get aids
Had to save
Crying because she doesn't have a dress without a patch for the party to go
But you know she'll get by
'Cause she's living in the love of the common people
my mama worked and my daddy worked had to walk the streets
Where they play fa keeps nah life ain't sweet by five foot three
I had seen a lot how
She sent my pops right into town
To pick a Douglas fir
He bellied up to the bar instead
And said to the man, "Yes sir!"
Old pops he liked his eggnog
wrastle the fangs off of my fist
Flood a little soldier blood over the ogre acres
On some holiday in Cambodia with motor home appraisers
Pagans fade into
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