Tác giả : Sir Mix-A-Lot
Người đăng : administrator, 14 năm trước
[ chorus ] 
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) 
 
[ verse 1: malika ] 
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 
 
[ chorus ] 
 
[ verse 2: sir mix-a-lot ] 
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 
 
[ chorus ] 
 
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... 
 
[ verse 3: malika ] 
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 
 
[ chorus ]