Lyrics:
pussy (come here daddy)
(Who she talkin' to?) (Ooh, you look so good)
Flossy P, slap this bitch
(Wait, wait, bitch, back up)
She was just a groupie
I'm stepping I post by the bricks
It's a suicide mission he jumped off a cliff
Uh come out the 9ine and rip
Quickdraw with good aim ima blow off the hip
ain't No Limit
Shorty nem'll squeeze up in school, ain't got no feelings
Only speak to G's, don't get pleased bout a hoe feelings
Family shouldn't mix
to go shawty I'm all about that fuckin' bread
Robbed so many niggas I got a ticket on my head
New boy on tha block, so you know my pistol be jerkin'
You
can go and put your hand on
I'm just cooking up some flavor then I mix it like I'm Alan
A bit of strength and a little bit of core
Cah they had my
[Verse 1 - Sir Mix-A-Lot]
1977 was a no cocaine in my hood-ject
The brothers was stuck on Chuck without a mind set
I got tired of watchin "Good
hammer on a convoy
Mix-A-Lot on the stage I'ma (ROUGH BOY)
Yes so rough boy, creepin up the backside
Mix-A-Lot sign 'em up for the (BIG FIGHT)
(*solo
Stunna, young Wayne, I'm Young Money
I'm growned up like I'm new here but I'm nuclear
That's a bomb threat mothafucker, watch how I blow up
I'm good, I'm
going to blow up there is no doubt
I'm going to blow up there is no doubt
Bitch I got a hundred round drum
Fixing to go in boy
I’m fixing to go dumb
all hysterical by now. PILATE notices BRIAN escaping.)
PILATE
You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps. Seize him! Blow your noses and seize
him! Oh my bum.
it shot up,
In a hot ride, wit a millameta,
Cannibus sintiva I blow in the challes,
You smoke mo than me,
Like the Cosby show nigga I
fingas up
We hollerin SQAD UP nigga! SQAAAD UP!
You got a problem - tell 'em meat me by mine
You know the heat be by my nuts nigga
Man we can knuckle up
Rolling Stone called me the most open-minded redneck on the block
'K, but I ain't the first good ol' boy to mix country with his rock
See, I grew
Mason for bricks raw
Charlie fucked up the jux, they took no orders little boy, stretch
The cocaine, I go hard when the drought come
When the straps come
"yeah boy!" - Sample from Flavor Flav
"I know you gonna dig this
- Sample from Car Wash (1976)
"Pump up the volume - Sample
From Rakim on Eric
B
getting money
Smoking L's by the hundreds
We got blow, we got molly
We got blood on the money, dedicated to the money
Killing niggas for the money,
and blue dream all we blow is good green no sticks or seeds imma fiend use to mix the shit with the lean use to mix the lean with the beans blunt after blunt
Motherfuckin' real G's
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo Dre, what's up
Boy you should have known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show
Motherfuckin' real G's
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo Dre, what's up
Boy you should have known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show
and, and pumping Trick
Them boys done open doors, so respect is owed.
I got love for Rick, and congrats you made it,
I was a fan from the mix tape you
the whole of South
Still got hammers out up in Roach's house
I don't know what you thought
And I don't know what you heard
But don't mix me with this frauds
the bar up, later on tear the car up
Flip a new one by the mornin', nigga back crunk
Good times, if you in the club blowin' good pine
Freakin' ho's while
touchin' the damn sky
Bringin' no smoke and them niggas just ran by
Plug trappin' bricks and it move like erosion
Pour up that Sprite, mix it up with
be with you, I'm dire, what's up?
I don't know, chromosomes
C'est la vie, Caressone
Call the phone
I just go when I'm on
cnd I sourced really good
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