Attack on the Stars

[Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking] (*sound of alarms in the background*) "Prepare for Attack on the Stars" "Prepare for Attack on the Stars" Five, four, three, two, one Begin attack Begin attack [Sir Mix-A-Lot] AH, hip, Swass, down to be the boss Hustlin, movin, punks gettin tossed Stop, It's cocked move back Don't make a move or I'll drop you in your tracks Growin, blowin, not hype I'm hyper I scratch records, Maharishi is a sniper Woo, too swift for the criminals Banks never gonna measure my decibels Get it up, this beat's so crazy Punks like you don't phase me Big man, muscle in the window Kickin live in a four door Benzo Ripped, with muscles I'm furious MC's almost hip gettin curious Mix-A-Lot the maker of revenue Drop kick mud ducks on the avenue Cadillac, some think I'm a mover But the gold on the wheels might moo ya I'm in effect with another funky groove POSSE UP, Mix-A-Lot is on the move (*sounds of alarms going off*) "Attack!" "Attack!" "Attack!" [Sir Mix-A-Lot] OH, here we go, I dropped my microphone Picked it up, now I'm back on your stereo Out West, rollin in a Big Benz Don't chill, not 'til the song ends There's the more, now I know you hear it Grit my teeth when I write my lyrics You jump, I attack like a animal No pity, no show at your funeral Punk, your rap's illiterate Wanna box boy don't consider it Ingenius, used to be a good boy Nine millimeter gat my new toy Let's go, shuffle for the right shot Stick and move if you want but you'll get caught Criminals on the set you ain't nothin Big Boss in effect I ain't bluffin (*sounds of alarms going off*) "Launch Phase 2" "Launch Phase 2" "Launch Phase 2" [Sir Mix-A-Lot] What about this other group, dressed like GQ Yeah I'm talkin about you You call yourself rappers, crack another joke You old smoker, take another tote You bought 'caine back in San Diego I saw it when you layed it on the table Big disappointment to your fans You wanna throw, let's go for the floor man WOO, that's controversy Yeah I said it, and I show no mercy Superstars watch your back Yo D, your game was wack Nuclear warhead aimed at your forehead Your girl calls my name in your bed Fire, this beat's so hard New song my Attack on the Stars "Time is running out" "Time is running out" [Sir Mix-A-Lot] No time, my rhyme's runnin out a fuel Here's the part you decide if you wanna do Count it up, the duckets from the Swass tour Buckle up for the pain you will endure Movin, runnin, slick plus cunnin Girlies on my straw cause I rap so stunnin Loaded with amnition, uzi ammunition Tongue lashin suckers, black it like a statistican Satisfied never, nothin could be better Roll a gold Caddy, wearin white troop leather Packin dual handguns, rippin up the nation Droppin enemies so hard, they type, they wouldn't want none Inhale (*inhaling noise*) here we go again The story of my life, everyday's a perfect ten Always gettin caught with tactical equipment Bringin in my uzi on the UPS shipment Cut 'em, droppin 'em, no one says I copy 'em Skeesos in my posse always tell me that I'm rockin 'em Old school, new school, make no, never mind Your foundation's just been undermind Slice, roast those big boys Banks don't matter you will be destroyed Up and down the rap world goes The radio rotation dominated by your flow But I'm comin, radio or not It's your record label, they kept me on the block My posse's new attitude No mercy on the stars, and that includes you (*alarm goes off*) [Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking] So what is it man What's this dude been saying AW, it is, it's my Attack on the Stars Out there effecting you audience punks You oughta be ashamed You know who it is, it's the big man And I'm rich with it Yeah, sucker (*beat stops*) [Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking] (Voice in background) A Ha, out there pumpin that heat, boy (I've been just smokin man) Please, you ain't with this (I've been just smokin) Smoker (yeah) Smoker, I said it (*laughing in background*) Yeah, and what's up man (what's up) Yeah, and this punk know what's happenin (yeah) (*sounds of high fives*)