Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:31 | ||||
Now I'm your big mal dropper, mud duck stopper
Fila on the bottom and Adidas on the topper Transform scratchin', big beat matchin' I can tell you're getting jealous by the looks I'm catchin' I hate dumb skeezers, MC beaters Drop 5 grand on my bird white needer? (i have no idea, but i think it's watt meter) Smooth like ice, don't get nice Just turn up the box for the Mix-A-Lot slice (huh huh) Y'all ready to get busy? (huh huh!) Now, buttermilk biscuits here we go SIFT the flour roll the dough Clap your hands and stomp your feet Move your butt to the funky beat (huh huh) Buttermilk biscuits (x 3) (Lord have mercy Mix-A-Lot's our here rappin' about biscuits now) We're from L.A. to the Carolinas Dip them suckers in Aunt Jemima Don't make a difference what food you make Use buttermilk biscuits to clean your plate You eat 'em in the morn', you eat 'em at night Kentucky Fried Chicken makes the suckers just right I am eat 'em with jelly it's my favorite deally Wrapped and sealed by a freak named Shelley (huh huh) Buttermilk biscuits (x 3) One day I kissed my freak, hit the street Looking for something to eat In a 18-wheeler, lookin' real swass All the girls smile 'cause I'm the big boss Said I gotta eat now, can't eat later Made a lot of noise to attract my waiter The boy walked up, and what did he say? "Say, buttermilk biscuits free today!" So what you waitin' on boy, get up shake a leg Gimme 10 of them suckers with grits and eggs A glass of Koolaid and a whole stick of butter Them biscuits make me a superfast cutter (huh huh) Now grab that can and wrap it in your hand Bang that sucker till THE DOUGH EXPANDS PUT them suckers up in your oven Grab your girlie and get a little lovin' Add a BIT of honey if you want to get funny Microwave the suckers if you want your honey runny GONNA get naughty at the Mix-A-Lot party And rub them suckers all over your body (huh huh) |
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2. |
| 5:07 | ||||
My Posse's on Broadway 2x's
Verse 1 Me and Kid Sensation at home away from home In the black benz limo with tha cellular phone Im callin up my posse its time to get rippin Im freakin each sunroof to keep you suckas trippin Everybody's lookin if ya jealous turn around The AMG kip keeps us closa to the ground We're gettin good grip from the 50 series tires The Alpine's bumpin but I need the volume higher Cuz the 808 kick drum makes the girlies get dumb We're rollin Rainier and the jealous wanna get some Every time we do this sucka mc's wanna battle I'm the man they love to hate the J.R. Ewing of Seattle Picked up the posse on 23rd and Jackson Headin for the strip yes were lookin for some action The limos kinda crowded the whole car was leanin back Maharaji's watchin tv with two girlies on his lap On Martin Luther King the set looks kinda dead We need a new street so posse move ahead We all look kinda swass the crew you can't forget The mix a lot posse cold rippin up the set Chorus My posse's on Broadway My posse's on Broadway (posse up) My posse's on Broadway My posse's on Broadway Verse 2 Ahhhh rollin in my posse was getin kinda bored There's not anotha posse with more points scored We don't walk around like criminals or flex like big gorillas My homeboy Kid Sensation is a teenage lady killa Maharaji's on the def side dancin like a freak The girlies see his booty and their knees get weak Larry is the white guy people think he's funny A real estate investa who makes a lot a money Clockin lots a dollars we all got gold Cruisin in this Benz and ain't got no place to go Wheelin' 23rd we saw nuthin but thugs The girlies was to skinny from smokin all them drugs Cus the rock man got em and there butts just drop The freaks look depressed because the Benz wont stop At 23rd and Union the driver broke left Kevin shouted Broadway it's time to get def My girl blew me a kiss she said I was the best She's lookin mighty feaky in black silk dress The closa that we get the crazier I feel My posse's on Broadway it's time to get ill Chorus Verse 2 Crusin Broadway and my wheels spin slow Rollin with your posse is the only way to go The girlies by the college was lookin for a ride We tried to pick em up but we had no room inside We put em on the trunk we put em on the hood Some sat up with the driver they made him feel good The posse's gettin bigger there's much to many freaks My muffler is draggin my suspensions gettin weak Now the freaks are gettin hungry in Mix A Lot's treatin' We stopped at Taco Bell for some Mexican eatin' But Taco Bell was closed the girls was on my tip They said go back the other way we'll stop and eat at Dick's Dick's is the place were the cool hang out The swass like to play and the rich flaunt clout Posse to he burger stand so big we walk in twos Were gettin dirty looks from those other sucka crews Kid Sensation dropped a 20 and didn't even miss it this skeezer from another crew she picked it up and kissed it Her boyfriend's illin he went to slap her face My homeboy PLD cold sprayed the boy with mace Cus I never liked a punk who beat up on his girl If you don't have game then let her leave your world We took the girl with us With him she rode the bus She gave the boy the finger and the sukca starts to cuss Boy I got a def posse you got a bunch a dudes Your broke cold crying about the rock man blues Ya beat up on your girl and now your all upset She's with the Mix A Lot posse on the Broadway set chorus yeah brother you know what it is the posse's on Broadway 5 fella's and 22 freaks PLB!!!!!! yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah Get off my homeboys what is it |
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3. |
| 4:54 | ||||
4. |
| 4:43 | ||||
Get busy!
(Verse 1) Sir Mix-A-Lot bread the ultimate freak So cute in a suit, my beats can see Intelligent freak, wardrobe complete You can fold my robe, if you be my freak I got a big Cadillac with the bass in the back Try to take my freak, boy you must be whack Bicep's flex, so kiss my neck Buying pounds of gold with royalty checks And I'm Swass ... (Chorus) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (swass) Don't you wish your boyfriend was swass like me (Verse 2) Gold gettin live in a fresh fruit vest I'm the king of the beat in the Great northwest Packin more dollars than chase Manhattan A, after eaten sure my billfold fatten, yeah Yep, my phone be ringin like you wish yours would But my girl stays cool cause she looks so good Punk motherf**ker... call me weak Just turn up the bass and feel this beat Feel my bass drum ... (Break) ("Stop it, get silly, swass") - 4X ("Stop it, get silly, swass") - backwards - 4X (Verse 3) Now the ground be shakin, when my bass drum's breakin ("Stop it, get silly, swass") Suckers in the crowd think the boy be fakin ("Stop it, get silly, swass" - backwards) Now put this beat in your Nissan truck ("Stop it, get silly, swass") But don't start cryin when your woofers get stuck ("Stop it, get silly, swass" - backwards) Check it out ... (*solo of the beat*) Hit bigger! (Verse 4) I done 23 points when I count my bank All imitators I will spank I'm a freak and I know it, so why not show it I design my rhymes like a worldwide poet NEW freaks every week in my contract So cold with the rap you'll get contact Innovative beats with a brand new twist Don't you wish your man could rock like this Break it down ... (Chorus) (Verse 5) Eighty dollar slippers to wash my car It attracts more freaks than a beach lifeguard Ah, imitate me and you'll bring about pain Better wear dark shades when you look at my chain Swass, point, no introduction I come complete with freak instructions I work for myself don't have no boss Boy you gotta have brains if you wanna be swass And I'm swass ... (Interlude - Female talking) Oh Mix-A-Lot you know I want to, Oh Mix-A-Lot you know I like you (backwards) - 4X (Chorus) - 6X |
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5. |
| 3:53 | ||||
Got a real fine freek with a real big butt,
She gets real ill when she hears my cut, Got two cadillacs one blue one gold, Got straps on the back with a fresh set of Vogues, Wheel on the back and grill on the front, 24 carrot gold on my trunk, Got a rope like a python hanging 'round my neck, And my freak in my arms cold kickin on the set, Never get ill cause im two damn SWASS, Got a funky trans-am with a duel exhaust, L.A. is fine but Seattle is my home, Hood ornaments gold cause i dont like chrome. That's rippn' That's rippin' Chillin, never illin' in the place to be, Now I'm the m-i-x-a-l-o-t, On the West coast drive big Cadillacs, No white paint jobs with a wheel in the back. Sets talk smack, but they cannot hang, But you got to have brand of computerized game. You get mad cause your girl wants to play my, You know you want to hear it, put the record back on. That's Rippin' That's Rippin' I'm real estate investor, hard core dresser, Money countin' brother and I hate polyester. Walkin' on the wild side, pullin' gold snaps. I know you're gettin' jealous cause I got it like that. Cruise Broadway on my cellular phone, Spent a hundred thousand dollars on a brand new home. Dog in front yard, fence in the back, Freak by my side and a Fila hat. That's Rippin' That's Rippin' Rip this!! Rollin your Nissan, kickin' my beats, With my girl by my side lookin' oh so sweet, Got Fila on my feet and gold on my neck. Go cold carry cash cause I never write checks. Bankroll so big I can hardly hold it, You once had a dream but your Grandma stole it, Punched in her in the eye and took my bank back. You ever wonder why I'm like that? Cause I'm Rippin' That's Rippin' Yeeeaahh You like this beat, but it's time to change. Not gonna get ill, but I'm gonna get strange. Push yo partner, throw 'em in the isle Gonna kick live with the sqauredance style |
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6. |
| 4:28 | ||||
7. |
| 0:8 | ||||
8. |
| 5:24 | ||||
I'm a hip hop soldier ...
I'm a hip hop soldier All you wannabe gangstas, drivin' Volkswagens Chillin' at the high schools, broke but braggin' Under educated, your style is dated You talk behind my back and your rope's gold-plated But I'm back to take revenge, my beef will never end I'll tear your midsection, 'til your body start to bend Like a pistol, I'm a smokin' I'm crushin', not jokin' Whippin' sissies for a past time, and no I'm never chokin' I blow away suckers with the flicker of my index Not brass monkey, it's a natural reflex Go getter tactics, makin' suckers holla A vicious motherf**ker with a rope around my collar I carry lots a cash, I whip a sucker's ass I drive a big Caddy, and I pull the trigger fast Down at Arnold's on the Ave, I fight 'til the death I let you suck my in my chest, and then I break your damn neck I got the cold beats rippin', your needle's not skippin' So many damn weapons that the military's trippin' People in Seattle hate me, cause I'm not like a hood But you rock heads wish that you could Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier Now let's get one thing straight, my weapons are great You 22 automatic suckers are late Got a quarter Moon clip, and a Smith and Wesson I'm about to give you roody-poos a cold gun lesson I'm the wizard of mayhem, master of destruction Got a 44 mag, with the blunt instructions Page 1 says open, page 2 says feel Page 3 says cock, page 4 says kill A mini 14, full combat dress A thirty round clip, and I ain't takin' no mess Cause I'm a rough eyegrasser, a camouflage dresser My M16 has a flasher presser My Sterling mark six , it's funny but it hits It looks sideways but the sucker will kick A pack of dangerous beretta, kinda small but its good Some of you wannabes wish that you could Be a hip hop soldier I'm a hip hop soldier Now I'm about to get go, so I better clean up I'm not avigatin' crime, but you gotta get tough I don't believe in gun control, the theory is proven Give a criminal a gun, and your public is losin' For you gotta fight back, cause the pigs ain't black No protection in your section, now it's time to act A 22 won't due, you need rapid fire I'm a ammo gum gun buyer Big battle rifles, can make a suckers day You mess around with me so lot, you might get blown away Wearin' 5 gold rings, never intimidated In Seattle they are jealous, cause a brother has made it But they don't mess with me, cause they might get Iked I'm not a gay rapper, I don't like to get knifed The devil made me do it, and I wannabe good Don't you roody-poos wish that you could Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ... I'm runnin' hollow point bullets, in my 38 So if you plan to get ill, you better stay in your place Cause I'm not a game player, I'm just a rhyme sayer My vigilante group includes my mayor I pack two uzis cause they stop all crime You might get yours, but don't let me get mine I never beat woman, romance is better If a freak wants to leave, boy you might as well let her West coast rappers we all bust hard When we chillin' on the set, we never need a bodyguard People in Seattle hate me, cause I'm not like a hood Some of you wannabes wish that you could Be a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier ... I'm a hip hop soldier |
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9. |
| 4:15 | ||||
You could strike a match in my hand
too black to tan heavy metal rythem from a one man band bust my knuckles in a junkyard scuffle whippin adversaries with a brass belt buckle born in the ghetto hard like metal gotta '87 'vet with a fat gas pedal live a hard life shave wit a knife love to get freaky on the gloomiest nights (chorus) got childhood scars from the streets of my life girls laugh now they beggin to be mix'a'lots wife a new breed is here vigilanties o' rap got eyes like fire wit my boys at my back now im back for revenge all the rumors must end quickie breathin is out whole music is in alot of dummies get paid just for clappin thier hands not the style or desire of a true iron man oooh south side ruler dont drink cooler big money maker not a dumb drug user is real not drama paid pet llama met clint eastwood slapped his mama billboard thrilla avenue chilla hard rock lova and soft rock killa girls in the house watch yo blouse i am the man yo moma was warnin you about the bad boy of rap givin no slack talk behind my back and you might get slapped you might get paid but yo metal aint real your metals like mush this metals like steel! (chorus) big E gold crushin MC fussin more lines in my face than a sunburnt russin hardly ever speakin girls be tweakin buggin off the drums cuz my snare be peakin worlds most hated too bad ta be graded makin you mad and i 'm elated beat syncopater your bad im greater tougher than swarchinager in terminater guitar chord ripper perrrier sipper transboard scratcher and not a needle skipper fleash like steal mc steal mickey dees shrimp salad not part of my meal heavy drum begginer cant stand kidders hate funk metal and not a bullshitter girlies wanna kiss suckas throwin fists lotta rappas try ta rock but it aint like this! THE IRON MAN OF RAP DROPPIN THE BIG METAL, HAMMER! now thats true rap posse-up, yeah |
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10. |
| 4:01 | ||||
Here's a gory kinda story, 'bout an obese freak
With a forty inch waist and a ten inch beak, Overweight and out of shape with a triple chin, Her brassiere strikes fear in the hearts of men, The Girls a bremelo The Girls a bremelo Me and Terry hopped a ferry, we were lookin Swass When a dip hit the ship we were almost tossed It was a big bremelo standing on my toe, An enormous jelly-belly tryin' to say hello I was really kinda frightened as she looked my way, I tried to run because here buns made the ferry sway To be blunt she was fat and ready for combat On the way to Bremerton where the fat is at, The Girls a bremelo. Let's Go! I'm not fakin' or mistaken' 'bout the big ol' duck, She had hairy underarms and a whoppin' gut, Her hair was short and wavy, drove my pit bull crazy, A (Bermitan)? beast chasin' fella's in the Navy, At the movie she's the feature, the Bremerton creature, Ya' wear a life jacket if ya ever try and freak her Look at her physique, she ain't my kinda freak, The floor creaks when the beast starts reaching her peak The Girls a bremelo. She's just a bremelo. Change the beat! You can't ignore the way she snores 'cuz she blows down doors, Baby's got the kinda face only a mother adores, A big basket ball head, with her ten inch feet, Big lips, No hips, with the smell of a beast, I couldn't put her in my Caddy or my tranny would break, I've heard of dirt because of poverty, but she took the cake, When it comes to Kool-Aidⓒ, the girl would drink it in pints, Ya go to school for twenty years and ya still in the ninth? Ya just a bremelo. Just a bremelo. You big, triple chinned, unattractive duck, Ya boyfriend beats freaks up to make a buck, Hangin' 'round Third & Pike on a ten speed bike, you could say that I'm a liar, but ya know I'm right Ya talk behind my back because I dropped you flat, And ya never take a shower 'cuz ya too damn fat So ya man was smart when he broke your heart Because if Mix-A-Lot'd cut cha youd'a fell apart Wearing Polyesterⓒ slacks with elastic in the back You could flatten Schwarzenegger in a wrestling match Ya got lips like a character in some cartoon With a pink posterior ya big baboon Ya just a (Elephant Trumpet) (Elephant Trumpet) Now Bremerton's a city right outside of mine, Most girls there are ducks but a few are fine But the ones that I speak about, use their faces catching trout, Vacuum cleaners for a mouth, You know what I'm talkin' 'bout Mud Ducks, Hocky Pucks, Drivers of Mackⓒ trucks, Lame brains, Deisel Trains, to pick them up you have to strain, Big Butt, Crew Cut, Extra-Ordinary Gut, Big Mamma kinda bod, make ya (?????????) kinda rough |
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11. |
| 4:22 | ||||
(Intro - talking)
Ha hee!, hee! Why Mix-A-Lot cotton picker you freak skinnin the cats Why don't you bring the beat on in here, cotton picker so I can get down (*yelling*) Put it up That's the way I like it there Mix-A-Lot Hey Mix-A-Lot, picks me up cotton picker Picks me up Mix-A-Lot (Break) Now everybody's rappin 'bout Everybody's rappin 'bout Ever - (*repeated*) (Verse 1) Now everybody's rappin 'bout "where's their line?" I'm gonna bust me a brand new rhyme Girlfriend's down and you stomped her freak Shake your hips and act conceit Throw your head high in the air Grab your partner's derriere Fellas in the cut, I know you must be trippin My boy's got them there home girl's quippin Now grab your partner, take a bow If you can't dance, I'll tell you how Wave your hands and take two steps Grab your hips and slide to the left Get all in your partner's face Swerve to the side and show your lace If your a freak then let it show And grab your partner doshy-do (do, do ...) (Verse 2) Now if you think your partner's fine Grab her where the sun don't shine If you can't dance, then tap your toes If your stuck up, turn up your nose Wave your hands from side to side Lean to the left and take a slide Other's DJs know their no match Just look to the stage and the song's that scratched (*scratching*) (Male voice - talking) Rock me babe - 4X (Verse 3) Freaks on the left and freaks on the right Grab your partner, hold him tight Put your hands in his Levi's Hold his rear while he grips your thighs The more you dance, the more I rap The big fat beat makes your toes tap Glen Campbell can't hang with this All you freaks give your man a kiss (look good) (Break) - 4X My beats are icky That why I'm Swass (Break - talking) Beat box Oh Mix-A-Lot I'm feelin it now, cotton picker YEEEE-HA! (Verse 4) Now everybody on the floor clap your hands Stomp to the beat of the one man band Mix-A-Lot brings on the drum machine The bass line riff is "oh, so mean" Mix-A-Lot make a jam in his room With a full tape recorder you can bust jams too Throw your partner across your thigh Tickle her fast, until she starts to cry Whip her to the left, whip her to the right But don't whip her to hard cause her jeans are tight (look good) (Chorus) Get your hands off that girl, boy Seattle rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) L.A. rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Miami rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) D.C. rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Carolina rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Houston, Texas rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) Your momma rocks (to the, to, to, to the Square Dance Rap) London, England rocks (to the sq, to the sq, to the Square Dance Rap) To the Square Dance Rap, hot damn (Outro - talking) Hey Mix-A-Lot, what in the world is that noise cotton picker? Sound like Grand Ole Opry Hear what I say Mix-A-Lot, say sound like Grand Ole Opry cotton picker Now before we end this filthy cut, we got a few things we have to say To the home girls sprung on the hum drum beat, check out Sir Mix-A-Lot Ray His style is fresh, so clean and new, he pulls so many tricks If you give him ten bucks and a brand new tape, he'll put you in the mix A haha, hey Mix-A-Lot I caught you that time, cotton picker (Break) My beats are icky ... (*drums play until fade*) |
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12. |
| 4:35 | ||||
13. |
| 4:43 | ||||