Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 5:19 | ||||
( 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!' 'Put yo TITTIES on the glass' This is like a pick-up line: 'How you doin? I was wonderin, could you put yo BIG FUCKIN TITTIES on the glass?' 'No, I don't wanna go to a movie, could you PUT EM ON THE GLASS?!' 'Put your titties on the glass'?! What happened to 'How ya doin? Whatcha doin later? Let's catch a movie'? No, 'Put em on the glass' 'Put em on the fuckin glass' What the fuck is this shit? The girls got on bikinis - he got a fur coat on What the fuck is the weather like in Seattle? ( Sir Mix-A-Lot ) All my ex's, eat this one (You can have her) ( VERSE 1 ) I used to have this girl, let's say her name was Mona Mona, fine young sugar comin out of Arizona 5 ft. 6 straight thick with a switch And a set of them juicy-ass lips (Mmh...) Kinky, just like me She can take a straight gee And put him down for the count 1, 2, 3 Needless to say I was kickin it Cause I know when I'm the only one gettin it But - ooh, things change when you don't maintain The same game you got her with, mayn Flew back home, and I was slippin Cause as soon as I left, another brother starts spittin Throwin drag about wantin a family Tryin to front because he wanna be manly Tellin my girl how I'm playin the field Boy, you'se a jake for real Now a player I like, but you know I can't stand no snitch Tryin to front like he rich Done shot your credit, cause you bought you a new E 320, and you wanna be a hoe like me Now you done salted my game Told my girl I'm a player, and you bought her a ring You paid a lotta money just to grab her I'ma tell you like this, trick: you can have her (You can have her) ( VERSE 2 ) I gotta do what I gotta do Baby girl's through, so I need somethin new You can't keep a good mack down I get around cause I got a tight thing up in Sea-Town 5'9" with dimples Caramel skin, straight fine, hella tight, no pimples Thinkin my game was concrete But I gotta watch for them other entertainers and athletes Especially the ones who wanna settle down Cause they'll beg and drink out your shoes and get they nose brown Just the kinda man you wanted, ain't it, honey? A big buff dumb-ass fool with hella money Down to spend till his knees bend Then the athlete's broke and his girl's in the wind And my girl gets mad, cause I never spend time like I'm s'posed to Plus I'm a boaster Shaggin up too damn quick, now she's lookin for a sugar daddy Just to get a '96 Caddy A big truck she found You young scrub on the bench for the Cleveland Browns He never had nothin, thicker than a cheerleader Now he got juice, so he eats her And treats her to a big wad of cash Too weak, so she left his ass You can have her (You can have her) Just rollin by the Playboy Mansion... ( VERSE 3 ) I got me a, I got me a, I got me a, I got me a Young bunny, young bunny in La-La Land Wanna get freaky with the papa man I smack her to the front, I smack her to the back I smack it with the whiffle ball bat, remember that? One happy black man I be When my L.A. bunny wanna trip with me Her name is Teresa She was freakier than me, but I figured I could please her She had the long braids Chocolate sister, loved to cuff men like slaves Arrived at the house at last Seen two shades of lipstick on the same wine glass Provocative artwork around me Four pink slippers on the floor surround me One pair's for her, the other pair's for who? Plus she only lives in a one bedroom Well hm - it might be on Menage-a-trois, open la bouche, taste la bomb Teresa's roommate walks in 6 ft 2 with a wig and a stupid-ass grin (Oh my goodness!) (You can have her) You done brought a big-ass man up in the room? Girl, what's wrong with you? Honey, that is gay Yo partner, you can have her Cause I don't want none of y'all 3's Company, if you know what I'm sayin Yeah Put it on the danceflo' Bring it back |
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2. |
| 0:51 | ||||
3. |
| 4:29 | ||||
(Coro:)
Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (throwin up this dirty old for life, fool) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (oh a la rasa) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (playin old cuts, doin donuts fool) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo (verso 1:) I got more bass than a little bit Game don't quit, my clique got a gang of them chips And it don't stop, cause a brother went pop And i got a couple knots in my sock One dough, one glock And i got me a cutie, buckin this 1992 dually Will i come booty, who me I thought you knew me You come to the boulevard newly Take a look at this truck, got 'em sittin on stuck Drop down to the ground, with them big sounds Four twelves in the back, 'til the windshield cracks Like that, with a fat bass track And i love my horsey, try to ignore me Scratch my back and you'll force me to dump Dump, dump, dump, put 'em on stun And drive my horse into the sun (Coro:) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (rollin down the boulevard) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (on rizza, ta nizzay) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (eastside, essa) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo (westside, westside) (break - woman talking) Hey, what you say fool? Nah, let me explain somethin to you This is my vehicle, you know what i'm sayin? I roll when i wanna roll When i want cause i got my cabbage like that You know what i'm sayin? Keep player hatin and watch the ass drop car door slams and tires skid (verso 2:) I gotta get an impala, pina colada White cause the gold one's nada Get the coke white seats, fill 'em up with heat Six three with the bows on feet Peanut butter top to match the guts Droppin that butt, got 'em all sayin "what!" Yellow back with a profile, what's up now Gotta give me ten points on style And the paint ain't trippin, drippin Look at this dippin, never caught slippin or missin And in case you was doubtin my pimpin (what up fool) My kitten, got the pearl white scopes to match my paint coat Giddy up, here we go Back to the boulevard, rush with the horse to the test I'ma park this next to the best And flex like i'm poster, rollin this roaster Hoein this holster, closer Cause i'ma boaster, roaster, red light toaster No remorse when i buck this horse (female voice: let's take it from the east to the west homes) Buckin my horse, giddy up, westside Buckin my horse, giddy up, eastside Buckin my horse, giddy up, westside Buckin my horse, giddy up, eastside Buckin my horse, giddy up, westside Buckin my horse, giddy up, eastside Buckin my horse, giddy up, westside Buckin my horse, giddy up, eastside (verso 3:) Buckin this horse like a baller, black top slaughter Makin these eighteen's holler In a brand new horsie, call it my porschey Lookin hella fly and bossy Sittin at a red light waitin, porsche's shakin Talkin more mess than payton And i got it in first, gettin ready for the worst One point two turbo burst Let it ride like a black tech Bettin i'm gettin my sex while i'm passin up bets Grab my horse by the reins and tame it Watch where i aim it, so i don't flame it I can't explain the insane left lane Swing to the right, it's pain Pass these busters, lookin like lusters Sittin three deep in a dark blue duster Now i'm sittin on cruise tryna get my food Exit number 102 and then po-po spots me The guys still watch me, big man needs teriyaki I ain't trippin on vandals Cause my white gamballa has no door handles Gotta get met with force If you touch my ... horse (Coro:) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up (yeah) Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo, hey Buckin my horse, giddy up, hey yo |
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4. |
| 4:30 | ||||
5. |
| 2:06 | ||||
6. |
| 4:24 | ||||
7. |
| 3:21 | ||||
8. |
| 1:24 | ||||
9. |
| 4:42 | ||||
10. |
| 1:02 | ||||
11. |
| 4:38 | ||||
12. |
| 5:01 | ||||
Ho, Ho, Ho
(I know I ain't hear somebody say nuthin about hoes up in here, sshhh, ooh lord) What's up Dallas, what's up (x2) Dallas jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up San Antone, what's up (x2) San Antonio jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Austin, what's up (x2) Austin jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Houston, what's up (x2) Houston jump on it, jump on it, jump on it (Ooh lord) Welcome to the 2 1 4 Big B, D Texas Let Mr. Sexes flex this Lexus And this where the Cowboys play They battle with my team from the bay Frisco Now I'm from the northwest But I likes my soul food So I'm calling up an old groove And I'm a brother with a gut So, hello Kema, can ya take us out to Papadeaux's? And don't forget about San Antone The last time I went thru I took three broads home And much love love to the brothers in Austin And the 5 1 2 I'm flossin in Lawston A state that's as big as hell And I spot two bad ass girls in a Tercel They said what's up? And I said whassup? (We're going to Houston) And I said giddy up, U-turn What's up Phoenix, what's up (x2) Phoenix jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Cali, what's up (x2) California jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Vegas, what's up (x2) Las Vegas jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Sea-town, what's up (x2) Seattle jump on it, jump on it, jump on it (Ooh lord) Welcome to the 6 0 2 It's a hundred and five in the shade And I'm sippin on a lemonade Phoenix Arizona puts the heat up on ya I should warn ya The girls as fine as California Speaking of Cali Check your mack daddy He gots game, and knocks dames from Redding to the Valley And I can pull'em on a TJ border I even knock Mr. G's daughter And come on up to the 7 0 2 Where it's legal to gamble, and hoing is too The kinda city I could run wit Las Vegas na vi dad, I love it Back to the 2 0 6 Double up my grits And Sea-town giving po po fits Chasing the skirts like a playa supposed ta 348 roasta HIT IT! (ho, ho, ho... ooh Lord) What's up Atlanta, what's up (x2) Atlanta jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Orlando, what's up (x2) Orlando jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Miami, what's up (x2) Miami jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Tampa, what's up (x2) Tampa jump on it, jump on it, jump on it Coming thru the 4 0 4 Olympic summer, Atlanta, so lets go Calling up my homeboy Daddy Ray ('Ey Ray, what's up with the girls in GA?) And Ray got the situation handled We gonna stack up six deep And ride to Orlando To the 4 0 7 Calling up Magic Mike, we rolls in about eleven The gut getta gotta good ol' nine The next dat I gotta mash to the 3 0 5 I get G'd like I wanna in Miami You undastand me, I put that on my grammie And swing on up to the 8 1 3 Around Tampa, I'm dialing up Stephanie She got me polished like chrome Sittin on a throne I'm wore out know, I'm going home (Ooh lord) What's up K.C., what's up (x2) Kansas City jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Cleveland, what's up What's up Cincinnati, what's up Columbus jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Little Rock, what's up (x2) Little Rock jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Denver, what's up (x2) Denver jump on it, jump on it, jump on it (Ooh lord) What's up Chicago, what's up (x2) Chicago jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Portland, what's up (x2) Portland jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up St. Louie, what's up What's up East Side, what's up St. Louis jump on it, jump on it, jump on it What's up Tacoma, what's up (x2) Tacoma jump on it, jump on it, jump on it |
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13. |
| 4:18 | ||||
14. |
| 4:41 | ||||
15. |
| 2:31 | ||||
16. |
| 4:14 | ||||
(Coro:)
You can lead yo horse to water But you cannot make him drink I'm just tryin to spit some game So you might wanna stop and think (2x) (verso 1:) Okay, 'lik's gon' come anew for '9-6 Lead yo ass to the aqua, but i can't make a brother rich You gotta go for self, and then help others Mama wasn't lyin when she put you up on game, brother All up in the house gettin loud and disrespectin 'lik steps in, regulatin and hoe-checkin All them makes wishes, ain't already tryin to sympathize Players stay paid all day, but yo ass stays broke and high Oh my, kids and stuff all over like some roller skates Still i keeps it on my pape and niggas be tryin to playa-hate But that'll get you rolled up sideways Whoever said crime pays never got 3 strikes in l.a. Makes you lonely, sayin, contributin to mines You could be hella fine, but ain't nobody spendin mines Mobbin with the crowbar with some common sense You can stay hella bent, i be at the water stackin presidents (Coro:) (verso 2:) One of these goddamn set-backs of havin your mail fat Is some of these lax-ass wanna-be macks, and you hoes in black They tracks sound booty, and they ain't doin they duty In the studio, and only if you knew me, though You'd see that i puts in work, and puts hurt On your flirts that wanna wear skirts and try to jerk But you'se in love with a fantasy, trick You wanna 'sit on yo ass, collect checks and shit' You was younger than me, so i schooled ya Gave you the tools to come up and get down like a ruler Took you to executive brunches, high-powered lunches Gave you dough in bunches So get your fried chicken and your watermelon Start the yellin, mix-a-lot is why you ain't sellin Old uncle tom nigga gettin mad But you know you never worked for the shit you had Start drinkin, bitch (Coro:) Hey yo, 'lik, fill in the blanks What's up with these would-be gold diggers chasin entertainer niggas Handin out sugar daddy contracts to big black macks in black pimp caddies I mean excuse me for pimpin, but ah... (verso 3:) Tryin to see a meal ticket like's they big goals Rollin fat hoops and rollin gizzy stashin big loads Jump your woman, but ain't handlin yo business County aid plea, check so small you can't buy bisquits Got you a family, still you all up in mines Fuckin off's the hot rule, but see, 'lik gon' fit to be fine She ain't right, got her shorties runnin the streets with retardation Bein barely sleep, puttin on that sneaky dick in her Boys will be boys, that's how the game goes Ask mix-a-lot, they all hoes, and this player knows Better bumrush school and get your g.e.d. Cause welfare, homey, been cuttin back since '83 Two carts ??? and still be tryin to front Use your diaper money to load up them philly blunts Get a 9 to 5, change your whole mindframe Cause doin without ain't what's happenin, put yourself up on game Kill or hustle, somethin, gotta drink the water, girl That's from a sister, 'broke' don't exist in malika's world (Coro:) |
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17. |
| 4:31 | ||||
18. |
| 3:38 | ||||
19. |
| 3:43 | ||||