Lyrics:
And I said, "yes sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie. I put that envelope
Under that garbage." After speakin' to Obie for about forty-five minutes
Bang bang same thang game came when I left em
I do it by my lonely now I'm the Big Homie
[Slick Rick]
But I'm his Royal Slickness
diamonds in that motherfucker, look like yellow piss
Uh, glass handle, glass pot
Baby bounce back, yeah, I'm Sir Mix-a-Lot
Looking at my Rollie, that
it's a bird, it's a plane.
Na baby girl that's a shooting star with your name.
I ain't gon lie.
I told a lot of lies and played a lot of games.
But with
But they don't hiss
They call you family or they call you bro
They do whatever they want and
Will lie to your face
But no matter how much a snake sheds
But y'all know that rapping and singing shit make hits (it do)
That's why y'all on that yeah!
Niggas is talking that bittersweet aggression
While
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S-A, the N-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
kids, parents, don't be docile
To these forced ideologies, especially
When it's so easy to call out their s-y a- hypocrisy
Just by having a sense
cockney geeza smoke ma zoot by da block with a rosey lee
I don't do no features
Half these man in da scene are idiots
Grown men get put on da
Real talk
Real
anybody be tellin' you (Haha)
Lame rappers in the city be buggin'
Name your achievements, you can't say nothin'
You talk a lot, you ain't seein' your girl
down
Common Sense is in your town
I said come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense is in your town
I stagger in the gatherin'
Possessed by
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
a liar
The crib is definitely doper and the girls a lot flyer
(Here is something you can't understand)
So, tell me y'all, who's the man?
Who's
California with some new shit
I'm Sir Too Short I'm bout to do this
In 1981, that's where it all begun
We do it for the money we don't rap for fun
Five
I'm Sir Too Short, I'm bout to do this
In 1981, that's where it all begun
We do it for the money, we don't rap for fun
Five dolla's fo' a tape, Too
de
Ayy, bae (ayy, bae)
I'm thinkin' 'bout poppin' the question (oh my God)
Like do you wanna watch boxin' or wrestlin'? (Ah)
I joke a lot, but
the water
Rappers listen to your father, always fly farther or why bother nigga damn
Every beat I touch I turn to gold, I'm Midas
So to anybody thinking
I got zero music knowledge do not tell me how to mix yo
Yes I bought my DAW, the crack was hot garbage always freezing
Still cost less than fuckin
gotta be a lie 'cause it just bought me a house
It just gave me a deal, I'm just 'bout to come out
Shit, I just got my budget and I don't know what they
tryin to raise my pay, like sir mix a lot ray
The 808 will do it, fine women lose it, it's like kit of tools, the way it loosen up the screws
afro
blame it on my material possessions
Cause when I'm getting high it's when I tell you my direction
But if it's up to me I'd rather lie and give y
blame it on my material possessions
Cause when I'm getting high it's when I tell you my direction
But if it's up to me I'd rather lie and give y
know why cause I was
Frivolous but now I’m a saver
I’m a hustler by nature
I can sell bread to a baker
Sell a fence to my next door neighbour
I wanna buy
suffer and suck at that
You lying bout balling and having HOOOEESS
Thundercats Thundercats
Bitch this is Pule
Who are you sir
Most rappers in the A think
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