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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Sir Mix-A-Lot
Sir Mix-A-Lot
Vocals
Michael Powers
Michael Powers
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Ray
Anthony Ray
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sir Mix-A-Lot
Sir Mix-A-Lot
Producer
Rick Rubin
Rick Rubin
Producer

Lyrics

Ain't you tired of that gameless mark Smackin' you in your face baby? You better roll with the big mack The man with the game Gotta big snake, all you gotta do is make it dance You know what I'm sayin'? I'm rollin' to another neighborhood Me an' my boyz, up to no good Chasin' miniskirts an' the ride is packed Rollin' to a mall called SeaTac Cruisin' an' the cops don't like that 'Round the mall once an' don't come back Four door Rolls with the black exterior Turbo Bentley, white interior A Rolls Royce fulla big black men In the suburbs, messin' with citizens Walkin' in the mall, looka how I spit Sloppy dressed brothers make the females blitz Big long starters, black low tops Mack daddy hat got me lookin' like Pops But that's cool 'cuz I'm mackin' anyway An' your females my prey An' I'm callin' out skirts like Chuck D Sista, we missed ya, get wit' me Comin', runnin', your boyfriends gunnin' The big boss is so cunnin' Some of my home boys hate me They get a microphone, then try to take me But you ain't slip, sayin', "What's up Mix?" Boy I'm hip to your tricks I'm the Mack Daddy Yeah, ain't no reason to beat ya 'Cause I'm the Mack Daddy Steadily mackin' Kickin' in a buffed up Lamborghini If your females proper, she gots to see me 'Cause I'm the king of the roll outs Mack Daddy is back, still runnin' my mouth I see a freak on the SeaTac strip My Lamborghini's brakes get grip So I pull up on to The Spot I start frontin' 'cause I wanna get jocked Topped off the gas, whipped out my cash An' one girls starts to laugh But I'm still smooth An' my game is on, so I make my move Say, "You in the white pants I'm a step close to ya, but I won't dance An' what you laughin' at?" All the girls start pointin' at my hat An' I'm a giggle wit' 'em 'Cause I just wanna get wit' 'em I don't hit 'em, I just wanna stick 'em So I pull baby girl to the side She said she likes my car, I said take a ride So we flipped up the doors on the Contach But gettin' in a Lamborghini is hard So I grabbed baby girl by the rear end I thought she might need help gettin' in So I close the door an' now you know Mack Daddy is about to score The girl said, "Baby, you can have me" So I stopped at the tail 'cause I'm the Mack Daddy All you all gameless marks know I'm the Mack Daddy Yeah I don't smoke no weed, but I likes to G I don't mean O.G., I mean sex, baby 'Cause a brother like me don't date I sling records an' tapes The Rhyme Cartel with the Def American Gettin' brothers sprung like Farrakhan An' I'm stuffin' my ladies pumps In the backa my Benz, I humps I'm nasty an' proud To hell with cool, I'm Gin' 'em loud Other people at the hotel gets no rest 'Cause Mix-A-Lot's bumpin' them headrests She got booty for days Other brothers is pullin' up, but she ain't phased 'Cause I laid my game like a concrete slab She's the kinda skirt a mack gotta have Rollin', showin' her off An' some fool tried to call me soft He's in a 1972 head Caddy A old superfly mack daddy So my girl stepped out an' he tried to mack But she ain't havin' that You see your game is weak, G My girl, I ain't slappin', I'm mackin' an' rappin' I'm the Mack Daddy I'm the Mack Daddy Always mackin', I'm the Mack Daddy Come over here an' get some of this snake I'm the Mack Daddy So wassup? Was it good?
Writer(s): Anthony L. Ray Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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