Lyrics:
Whip I drive? Owned by me, wrists and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be? I'm who you dying to be'
Last of a dying breed, I'm Siamese
Twin pistol shooter
hurried by why did they fly away.
Why is it Sir children grow up to be people one day,
What takes the place of climbing trees and dirty knees in the world
No question about it, Queens represent!
Say what? Queens represent!
Come on, come on! Queens represent!
Come on, Lost Boyz, LL Cool J
You wanna get
Logic in his thirties but he rappin' like he in his Prime
Goddamn, what a veteran, this is braggadocia at it's finest
We been through a lot of shit but
a lot of black women
What should we do Srg?
Srg:
I repeat let em go
I repeat let em go their made niggas
Let em go
Cop:
But... But
Srg
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
the floor, sir
Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness
We fought for these ideals, we shouldn't settle for less
These are wise words, enterprising men
in all its forms
This petition was written and signed by Benjamin Franklin
It cannot go ignored.
If this comes to a vote in Congress
What is
(Ah-oh-oh-oh)
Doesn't matter, what you are
A thief or a beggar or even a superstar
As long as you were made by God above
Oh, I know, I know
You need love, we
me mr drip a lot
I whip the work with 2 hands sir mix a lot
I got the sauce yeah they call me mr drip a lot
Drip a lot
Drip a lot
I got the sauce yeah
baby, just go pick a side
Wanna know if you ride or die
Wanna know what these feelings inside are
I don't know, but by far, I can tell that they real
tied up, make you watch a real killer, hit your wife from the back
Know where your crib at, get your kids snatched, big Brasi, I'ma get you whacked
a lot, I had something to choose
Look at that, I can say there's something to prove up in your ass
Yeah, I guess
That's enough of the past, what makes you
with hard rocks (yeah).
From napalms to Uzi's I made G's (say what?),
them build up enough Luther by keys.
No gang affiliation, yo I stood on my own
ask how it feels
How the deal is that we're real so we're still around
Don't lamp wit a freestyle phantom ain't tryin' to be handsome
Shrinkin' what
told ya
A raid afraid of what I made and played it, plus a funky fit
So save your flips and tricks for that music and the monkey bit
Triggers from
Years we've been together
Seems we can't get along,
No matter what I do
I don't appeal to you
Makes no difference whether
I am right or wrong
the swag (swag)
And it's fresh off the lot, you can tell by the tag, what's up?
[Chorus]
It's about three in the morning (ay)
Gotta leave with
a lot of money, do you know what I mean?
Like this, complicated ya must stay up
Ya asked a simple question boy, don't say "What?"
Ya only live once
didn't do it I can't fuck with it
NWA is like a mix a fix a trix
Real niggas with big dicks
You're takin' a chance when you think that
Talkin' under
the bass in the mix
You know what's next bitch
I'm sure to get rich
[Chorus]
Ha ha
I'd be the thuggin' ass outlaw
Til my fuckin' casuct drops
collection
It's your mix, congratulations
We changed a lot and then some, some
Know that we have always been down, down
If I ever didn't thank you, you
Then
I'm still standin' over the stove nigga
Clock work
We squeeze 'til it's empty nigga
I'm a real nigga, I play by the rules
Y'all some fake niggas,
on over whole lot of shakin goin' on
Ah lets go!
Well I said come over baby we got chicken in the
Barn whose barn what barn my barn
Come over baby
Discuss these whats real by sir mix a lot Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In