Search results for 'why do rappers lie by sir mix a lot'
Yee yee! We've found 113 lyrics, 86 artists, and 100 albums matching why do rappers lie by sir mix a lot.
Sir Mix-A-Lot · Four Letter Lie · Eyes That Lie · Rappers Against Racism · various rappers · Luli Y Sus Rappers · A Lot Like Birds · Lot · The Why Store · Why Knot · Why don't we and login paul · Little Mix · Mix Boy – and 76 other artists »
Lie Lie Lie (Serj Tankian) · Beepers, Benzos & Booty: The Best of Sir Mix-a-Lot (Sir Mix-A-Lot) · Playlist: The Very Best of Sir Mix-A-Lot (Sir Mix-A-Lot) · Women Lie, Men Lie (Yo Gotti) · Women Lie, Men Lie (DJ Cover This) · Lie Baby Lie (Brantley Gilbert) · Lie Baby Lie (Brantley Gilbert) · Lie Baby Lie (Brantley Gilbert) · A Lot of Love. A Lot of Blood (Florence + the Machine) · A Lot of Love. A Lot of Blood (Florence + the Machine) – and 90 other albums »
[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
Whodini disappeared and Doug E. Fresh went stale And I think Sir Mix-A-Lot got into some bad ale The Fat Boys broke up and then one of 'em died And when I
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
there ain't shit to do But then sir jinx played his mix And you thought that shit played out in eighty six Lookin' for my dogs Looked up in
Sup? Short Dogg back in the house beeyatch! And it don't stop to the beat Ain't no thang but a chicken wing We gonna do it like this one mo' time
a thing for a brother like me Uncle Sam want to buy another missile (yep) Strip Mix-a-Lot straight down to the gristle (mm) I made a few mil'
[ 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!'
same thang game came when I left em I do it by my lonely now I'm the Big Homie But I'm his Royal Slickness ghetto weakness come Rick is
stayed original ever since y'all First to do a lot of things in the game, but the last to say it No need to place it on a scale to weigh it And don't do
Never lookin at the rapper, just the hotty in the skippy clothes And I gotta admit this Mix-a-Lot'll ZOOMA-ZOOM-ZOOM these skirts wit the quickness All
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
to places you never get to go so I got to move from the block I'm a lot richer yo I'm a lot sicker yo I make hits quicker yo when I blaze the haze and mix it
pressure Or the ridicule of two bigaloos Now who's the fool? And I ain't never been happier, no lie I'm just you humble servant, I'm Nas If y'all burn down
it do? You can call me Dogg Let me just check your sheet No problem, sir, let me just say I’m a big fan of the shit that y’all make I can’t lie, I been
Look around, that's why everybody's congregated It's getting to the point where I don't even wanna work with rappers no more man All these years
Mix-a-Lot a slut? I might get banned, but I still like butts! Mm! lay 'em on the table Dr Richard's willin and able Not sexist, just sexy Do I like
[8B] We some presidential players, with money by the layers [8B] Ain't nuthin you broke ass niggaz do that can fade us [TS] I won't stop rappin, I
Niggaz who pimp bitches and hit the highway with them drugs Feel my flow, mix it in witcha chronic main $Hort Dawg, I don't know why you tryin to leave
to get that stuff of the kitchen floor (oh) Is that too much to ask you for (oh) But I see no reason why, I can't let a few more weeks go by (uh uh)
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
God (To the Beat y'all Verse 1 A lot of love lost your days is getting cloudy now I'm gonna see how many can really stand the rain Bumpy back
Bronx to get your furious five 40 ounce of malt liquor, joint stuffed with the pie Boss nigga, best nigga, let y'all do deciding Hot spitter, dead
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
the static unfolds that the good die young Please God let a Bad Boy die old Do you think I wanna lie cold Or better yet have many shots come close
untold till the static unfolds that the good die young Please God let a Bad Boy die old Do you think I wanna lie cold Or better yet have many shots