Mack Daddy

*girl weeping*

What's wrong, sweetheart?
Don't you want me?
You paid for me. kneel to me.
*rhythmic sniffing*
Smoke me. breathe me. inhale ...
Ha ha ha ha ha ha, i'm your new god.

(sir mix-a-lot)
She's only 16, she looks lost
Bought crack from the dopeman, and got tossed
Livin on the streets, smoked out
Perfect individual for me to bust out
You can sniff me, or you can puff me
But the girl shoulda known, you can't trust me
She's only 98 pounds and lonely
She calls to her god for help, and that's me
Cocaine, go ahead n' use me, heh heh
Momma won't know you're a junkie
Just put me in your pipe, light and suck
*deep inhale* cluck cluck cluck!
And while you're high, grab a 12 gauge
Jump back on the streets, in a crack rage
The only way out is the sucicide route
Put the gauge at your dome and take it out
Now i'm on the 6 o'clock news
All my movies get the rave reviews
60 minutes had a special on me
The god called crack is killin your society
Colombia is where i get picked
I can kill with a 90-10 split
I work through the week, my pleasure is pain
And i'm your new god
You can call me cocaine

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Cocaine
Heh heh heh
Go ahead n' smoke me

(sir mix-a-lot)
Brothers throwin up a set to protect me
I'm worth a lot so money so respect me
Doin damage on the boulevard, just like that
*gunfire* shoot 'em over crack
Dope dealers would kill for me
Cause if ya sell me, i help ya live lovely
You want a porsche? move a few ki's
Just remember that your god is me
The task force bum rushed one of my employees
A big score, 23 ki's
Now ya see another dopeman sink
And one young cop on the brink
The cop's thinkin bout pinchin
And alimony checks to his wife for the rent and
Kids, so the profit is slow
And he wants to make his bankroll grow
23 ki's just sittin in the back seat
I can make the best man weak
So the cop hits the streets to sell a little pain
Now the cop has a god
You can call me cocaine

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Cocaine
Smoke this
Smoke it
Smoke it

(sir mix-a-lot)
The only way i can be stopped is with intelligence
And you don't get it, so that's irrelevant
So you die, or else go to jail
And i'm happy as hell
I tried to get a young kid but he just said no
Because of some sports hero
So i entered the hero's house in the form of a line
And let him snort one time
Now he'd dead, cause my dose was pure
Got him too quick for the cure
So the headlines read, "dope made another hit"
*sniff* dead on the first sniff
Now the kid is lookin for another hero
I let him know the other fool was a zero
He hits the streets, lookin for a remedy
They introduce him to me
I don't need another junky, just a flunky
Besides, the little punk was spunky
So i put him in a fresh pair o' dickies
Give him a beeper, and let him terrorize the city
Put him in a gang, teach him to slang
Another young punk deep in the game
He'll be lucky if he lives til' 18
And i'm his new god
You can call me cocaine

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Cocaine
Go ahead n' use me
Smoke me
Hm hm hm hm hm hm

{your silence is my trade}
Lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}
Givin' mcs lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}
Lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}
I'm givin' mcs lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}

Here we go! oh no,
Another flow show from the young black dynamo
Lockin' up jaws, mcs pause -
No lyrical flaws
Hush, when the boss is talkin'
Lay down gats and get your weak knees walkin'
You ain't allowed to speak 'cause you've reached your peak
The elite don't get with the weak
Shut up, 'cause i'm burnin' this cut up
Boy, don't try to run up
'cause i chop up crops
A weak hip-hop boy tried to jock my spot and he flopped
He went down to the concrete ground
I'm a hound when i get down
And i'm back, the mack with a lyrical knack
To pack sacks and never pay tax
And when i leave they diss me
Knowin' they can never get with me
But he who laughs last gets the most cash
And lives the blast past of rap trash
Gone! left ya, son
Gimme a call when you're done
Your silence is my trade, shut up!
{your silence is my trade}

2x:
Lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}
Givin' mcs lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}

Run, run, run, your time is done, son
Move out for the well-hung young one
And i'm rackin' up stacks of greenbacks -
Dead presidents, black!
Peace to my fans and i love ya
And i got yo' cover
'cause i'm back to please
And cool off the hot mcs
'cause they're runnin' around like ants, tryin' to grab their pants
That shit don't make you dance!
What's this beat doin'?
Leavin' your posse ruined
Stuck my fist in his mouth
Caught him on a whole shout
No pity on the lyrically weak
Face defeat, retreat, but don't speak
'cause i ain't through, fool
And you ain't true to the mix rules!
You try to flow so you go for what you know
But yo, bro, you ain't the flow pro
(ohh!) i can't go slow
Gotta grow 'cause i wanna get mo' dough
Full blown, bad to the bone
And known to get it on with a microphone, homes
Leave my throne alone
I've been to the low zone
Your silence is my trade, shut up!
{your silence is my trade}

2x:
Lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}
Givin' mcs lockjaw! (shut up!) {your silence is my trade}

Come on, punish!
Punish!


Your host on the coast is known to boast
And roast most that choose to get close
Put 'em in a lyrical knot
My spot: the #1 slot
But i gotta have beats
When i lyrically de-feat the weak that try to compete
Get 'em up, if you wanna go head-up
What up? do as i instruct, black
'cause my gat is jack-backed
And lookin' at your baseball hat
I rolled over that mess you stole
And took control, and then broke the mold!
Now here i stand, boss man
The northwest tip is where i am
And i'm runnin' this work like dope
Shippin' it in planes, trains and boats
Up the charts i go
Steppin' on toes and throwin' low bolos
My group is large, and hard
No need for a bodyguard
We flex, rippin' off mcs' necks
Run 'em into critical's pecs
Your silence is my trade, shut up!

2x:
Lockjaw! {your silence is my trade}
Givin' mcs lockjaw! {your silence is my trade}

Come on, punish!
Punish 'em!
Punish!
Punish 'em!

Lockjaw!
Givin' mcs lockjaw!
Lockjaw!
Givin' mcs lockjaw!
Lockjaw! shhh

I'm your testarosa. first gear
Watch me go, keep 'em in fear
Rumble, young man rumble
Brother won't fumble, muthafukas just crumble
Gaskets crank, rappers get spank
Stripes get yank, a superior rank
Won't stop the jock in some american car use a lyrical radar
But i'm rolling, the cartel's tolling
For the d's keep folding
Most cadillac rappers get look and disturb
By the jet black blur
Me, the testarosa running like it suppose ta
Don't try to get closer
Cause you might get lost in the dual exhaust
Don't ever try to fuck wit' a boss
High octane there ain't no ping
When i swing on a lyrical speed king
And that's just first gear, listen for the upshift
Who can get wit' this
I'm your testarosa

Second gear, look it here queer
I'm in here, hitting like spears
The rhyme cartel slings legalized dope
Some cope, others get (gunshot noises)
Lost on the boss, it's finish is flawless
12 cylinders listen to the horses
It accelerates smooth
Move or else get move
Run for cover my brother, suckers are getting smothered
I ?cutted? you other ?smutters? rammed in the gutter
My rep is kept, muthafukas must step
The best get swept and let out to rest
Huuuu, look at that air intake
Second gear, passing fakes
Revolution per lyric get higher
How can i chill when my rhyme's on fire
As i approach the end of my tach
My lyrical horse power blows to the max
Red line is reached to the peak of my speech
And i told ya, i'm your testarosa
Testarosa

Gear number three, get off the clutch and don't let 'em up
Keep 'em all down on these young bucks
Let 'em know big boss is just a bit quicker
Get the picture
Backtalk tolerated none, son
Left you at the gun when i hit gear one
Now i'm in third and you think that's quick
Huh, wait till i hit fifth
Me and my pack, we keep plenty of snackpacks
You said fat now i'm yo to the max
Want mix-a-lot for your next attack
Hey, yo, critical mass, yea, i got your gat
Two hundred sixty pounds of pure pain
Critical mass is my homeboy's name
My personal trainer, taking weight gainer
Got the bulk to crush and contain ya
On the tach, i'm like a wind ax
Cutting up air like boeings aircraft
Time to shift and let my lyrical seatbelt hold ya
I'm your testarosa

Up to fourth gear, the speed increase
Police got beef wit the word chief
Move or lose, i excuse the wack dudes
You light my fuse and clear out or get used
I go 100 in a 55
No need to lip synch, i'm straight out live
So i'm rough lust who wanna be tough
You fuss and cuss wearing that raider's stuff
Fake fools from around the way
Knowing damn well, you ain't from la
Ashamed where you come from son, so you rattle
Like it or not, i scream straight up seattle
Rip up streets wit a lyrical sweet
Don't peep or creep or you lose your freak
The cam's growl, engine loud
My tongue keep beating 'em down
Rev it up, get ready for fifth
Just hit 'em wit a maximum dis
I roll ya, fold ya, mold ya, i told ya i control ya
And i'm your testarosa
I'm your testarosa
Yo punish, show 'em what time it is

Gear number five, you're eyes get wide
So realize that i survive and i rhyme for mine
I rope the dope and is he coming up, nope
I ain't the joke so don't hope for my throat
There it is, the whiz gets his
The word quiz is what it is and mix don't give
Sight to the wack who act like max
And try to jack a pop rap to hit the map
That ain't like me, it ain't cool
To rob another fool them claim you rule
You boot but not me, troops, you like juice
So you hit the stage wearing my boots
Uh ,uh cupcake, i ain't about to get rape by fake
Just look at the tail light shrink and then think
How i left you pink in a lyrical kink
Time to drop to my gears and then stop
'cause i lock the box on them clowns that jock
Turbo cone is 230 up on ya
I'm your testarosa(3x)

*spoken*

Brothers, we've messed over our sisters for years
(years and years)
I said for years
But now we're being messed over
I said now we're being messed over
You done fell in love with the cat
You know what i'm talking about "the cat"
It'll get ya

*rap*

Meow, meow, the cat will get ya
If you let it get wit' ya
Some brothers wanna spend alotta money
Just to get a little honey
But the honey gets runny when the money's funny
'cause i'm hipped an' a brother like mix don't slip
'cause them girls will put that cat right on ya
And don't say i didn't warn ya
Go down to the beach
See the girls in bikini's
Wonder why you don't see me, brothers (yeah)
Should i preach (preach, preach)
Awreit, back to the beach
A o.g. from the hood
Went down to the beach but his game was weak
Met a sweet thing named yolanda
She had the go mo-mo's on her brand new honda
So my boy stepped up with a gangsta pitch
Better come on an' get wit' dis
A forty-dog in his hand and he's saggin'
But pretty soon the cat's goan tag him
Later that night, yolanda got busy in the back
Of his big black cadillac
The next day, the o.g. wasn't playin' no ball
'cause he took her to the mall
Buyin' everything from skirts to boots
Oh, speakin' a boots, yeah he knocked 'er boots
But in the end another fool got jack
'cause he was sprung on the cat

Sprung on the cat, check it out

There's a brother named dave in a corvette
Had a job at the u.p.s.
I ain't dissin' 'cause u.p.s. pays money
But dave wants to kick it with the honeys, huh
He shoulda got 'em a girl 'n' settle down
But dave wants to get around
Put the top down on the 'vette
Hit the south side of seattle
Lookin' for sex
Got a full pack of seagrams under the seat
And boom, there it is...three freaks
Thick, walkin' with a natural switch
And dave starts getting that itch, huh
You know a 'vettes only got two seats
But dave wasn't listening to me
All three of them jumped in the car
Hit red lobster and went straight to the bar
But them drinks ain't cheap out there son
Five dollars for one of them daiquiris
And dave was treatin'
And the girls was sure 'nuff eatin'
Two hundred dollars worth of fish
And dave wants to make a little wish
A little something that he'd seen in a porno movie
Play bbd and said do me
At daves house they left him in a cold sweat
He gave 'em the keys to the 'vette
Ooh, that's the wrong move, black
You must be sprung on the cat

Sprung on the cat
Sprung on the cat
Old girl named joyce tried to put that cat on me two weeks ago
You mean she did put that cat on you, you're talkin' to
Attitude, be straight with me man

I'm cruisin incognito
850i with the smoked out windows
An' i'm thinkin' i'm raw
When it comes to girls i done seen it all
Then along came a girl named joyce
She had a black corniche rolls royce
At the stop sign she did something with her tongue
Could mix be sprung?
Her cat was calling me
And i started rolling slowly
Pulled up to the bumper
'cause i wants to thump her
So she pulls up into texaco
And i roll up slow and jump in the rolls
Now i'm checkin' out the body
This hotty gotta body 'n' i wanna get naughty
Followed her to the motel
Yes, motel, i'm too cheap for a hotel
Room deuce deuce deuce and it's time to get loose
I dipped in the juice
So what's up with the rolls
Checked the registration
And the rolls was stole
Baby girl tried to break with my keys and gat
But i ain't sprung on the cat

Don't pet the cat, if you just met the cat
If you're sprung on the cat
You might as well eat the cat
Sprung on the cat
Sprung on the cat
Maharaji over there all quiet
I think maharaji be eatin' the cat
How 'bout attitude adjuster
Attitude, you eatin' the cat or what?
I think it's critical mass
Critical mass be suckin' on that cat
Yo, p.l.b. i know you eatin' somethin'
Me? what you snackin' on??

{boss}
{boss}
We have such sights to show you
This isn't for your eyes...
Aaaaaaa, the boss is back!
{boss}
The boss is back!
{boss}
{boss}

So i took a one-year hiatus
Ain't nobody heard my latest
You thought mix-a-lot was through
But i'm back; this boot's on you
What happened to all the old homies?
When the money gets funny it's lonely
My ex turned into a slut
Down at the hollywood, slangin' that butt
Cheap perfume and a mini-skirt
Girl, what's your line of work?
Now that i'm rollin', you wanna roll with me
But have you been to the clinic lately?
Yesterday you had six condoms, see
Today you got three
Tossed you out like a paper sack
This brother ain't sprung on the cat
What about all the old homies?
I got paid so they call me phony
But i refuse to lay it low,
When a brother like you tells me i can't flow?
So here we go, bro, the leader of the flow show
Let you know, i roll and get mo'
I yank the bank and i ain't been ganked
Cause my back you're trying to shank, but no thanks!
My face shows pain and strain as i stand in the rain
With this fame, you go insane
The game i run is not fun to some,
And now i love no one!
The boss is back!

{big boss in effect, i ain't bluffin'!} i'm back!
Your boss is back!
{big boss in effect, i ain't bluffin'!}
{big boss in effect, i ain't bluffin'!}

Tommy wants revenge
But i want your oxygen
When the game got thick you ran
Now in my face you stand
Beggin' for a few hun?
Son, your fun meets my gun!
Now you scream you're true black
Boy, you need to chill with that!
Cause i'm an e-qual op-por-tu-ni-ty de-stroyer
My gat's my lawyer
Last week you's a stick-up kid
And this week you're in show biz
Standin' on stage, another black wanna-be
Wanna get paid, so you're as balck as you gotta be
Throw up a peace sign, fakin' the rhymes
Run out of lyrics, scratch in a malcom x line
Hypocrite, your hits break the bits
The boss of brain lays pain when i spit
Criticized, cause i'm takin' the dares
And now you're tryin' to tell another brother what to wear?
Come off that tip, you know how it goes
Another brother gets shot and punks blame it on gold
Gold ropes? naw, that ain't your problem
The job of a rapper is to find em and solve em
Now you're crying bout what a brother owns
King died so you could buy your throne
I ain't got time to take steps in reverse
You or the kkk, who's worse?
You told me to stay low in my ghetto
And so did the klan, so wake up, bro
Why do you think brothers is sellin' dope, fool?
America, boy, the bankroll rules!
Play that hard role and say you ain't with that
And everything you're cryin' bout money on your contract
Talked about me bad, it's time for the payback, black,
The boss is back!

{boss} i'm back.

I don't know the meaning of trust
I gotta live so i do what i must
Some girls'll cross you when you're soft
That's why i'm my own damn boss
They'll run you down with stress
If you're spring on the butt and chest
I'd rather be sprung on the ducat
And put another damn freak in my bucket
I deal with women, not girls
Cause them young ones'll shake your world
I'm tellin' it like it is
Cause a brother like mix ain't losin' his
I got about two or three clowns
That try to kick me when i'm down
But when i come up, they all play dumb
All of a sudden, it's we, not one
I zip up lips when i spit these hits
I'm equipped to make misfits quit
Young bucks should all duck cause jaws are gettin' struck
The luck gets chuched, so wussup!
I ram and cram my jams in the mouth of a man
I'm kickin' quicker than van damme
Face the facts, two platinums stack
Step off, fool, or get cracked!
The boss is back!

{who's the boss?}
I'm back!
{who's the boss?}
The boss is back!
{who's the boss?}
{who's the} {boss}