Lyrics:
spill
I'm Nelly wit' them hollows
'round here I let a 'Tip Drill'
Headshot, your funeral won't exist still
He got dropped wit' no service
Dickhead, now
stealing tarts?
Knave: Yeah. So what? Do you want to make a federal case out of it??
St. George: No, Sir. We heard there was a dragon operating in this
a tooth pulling-free without charge!
Oh, me, sir
Me, sir
Who else? No one?
Then, sir, since there is no means to test the second skill
I claim
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,
sir
Man, I had to do it
Just in case you were one of the ones
Who wanted to come and ask somethin' stupid
(What you think you doin'?) What it look
me because for some strange
Reason they knew how frazzled
I used to be and every time I tell people
"No, no, i'm really good i'm really happy
I
7 streams of pay
So I can get Thru my day
cause ima mix the work with play
work so hard so i can play
A lot of them they got to play
While I fought
their picks and projections
Times I wonder where I'm at when my name isn't mentioned
A lot of people got the skills but they don't got the heart
How bad
My dream life getting closer
My Da asked was I in a gang I shook my head like no sir
I think all my folks can tell I switched the wine and soda
I
chivalrous
I solve the case and you ask how I figured it
You say you got trauma well I'm about to trigger it
Don't care if you're ticklish I'll leave you
[Chorus]
[Bad Azz]
I been no one fuck a little bit give me a lot
I want a steak not an 8-gun on a block
I want a skyscraper, not no apartment building
I'm fly flu flammer
Yes sir, Yes sir , Yes sir
I ain't no fake rapper
No fake flexer
I'm a fly flu flammer
Yes sir , Yes sir , Yes sir
Cause yo shawty
posted by the club with it
I was robbing they where drugg dealing
I fucked around and put love in it
You pose to never mix know love with it
You pose
away
But this game I play ain't no
Way to fix it it's inevitable
Bills gotta get paid, kids gotta eat
Live by the chopper laws die by the streets
Fuck
through the fire like gold, can't be a rhymestone
We calculate by jubilees, we in a different time zone
Like one, two, three, four, five, knock a demon down
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
diamond language
Everything when they watchin'
Ride with the windows
I suppose you been told
Have a lil' sip, no shoes in my ‘Lo
Boss, sir, and when you
Uh!
I did good in my hood as a youngster
The Heavster was never a punkster, no sir
No ma'am, hot damn, me and Michael Jackson jammed
I dug Soul
jump on it, woo-woo-woo-woo
A-hunga-hunga-hunga-hunga
I'm Big Bank, I am the chief
I got a lot of raps but I'll be brief
I never need a horse, I
sir
Man, I had to do it
Just in case you were one of the ones
Who wanted to come and ask somethin' stupid
(What you think you doin'?) What it look
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
caught a lot of cases (I)
Took me a lot of time (I)
But I built a foundation (I)
I built a foundation (I)
I built a foundation (I)
Took me a little
plain
Old black extensions
Just a T-shirt about carbon
"I always thought that by the time
I put out a third album, i would want
To come back to natural
I can load up a square, but don't throw no shapes
Pull up to the spot, i'm sorry i'm late
Bros in the back we got ragged by the jakes
I'm sorry
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