Square Dance Rap (Album Version)

Lyrics

Ha he, he! 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 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 Now everybody's rappin' 'bout Everybody's rappin' 'bout Ever Now everybody's rappin' 'bout Everybody's rappin' 'bout Ever 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) 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 stuffed 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 Rock me babe Rock me babe Rock me babe Rock me babe 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 Glee can, no can, hang with this All you freaks give your man a kiss (look good) My beats are icky That why I'm Swass My beats are icky That why I'm Swass My beats are icky That why I'm Swass My beats are icky That why I'm Swass Beat box Oh Mix-A-Lot I'm feelin' it now, cotton picker Yee ha! Now everybody on the floor clap your hands Smoke 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) 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 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 ha ha, hey Mix-A-Lot I caught you that time, cotton picker My beats are icky

ANTHONY L. RAY

Universal Music Publishing Group,Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.