Man U Luv Ta Hate

What you mean I'm gone man You don't even know me Well go ahead and get 'em up busta Come on with it . . . Wahaa! (chorus) Y'all bustas just don't know Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes If you want to playa hate Eat a big 'ole snake (chorus #2: repeat 4X) It's The Man You Love 2 Hate The J.R. Ewing of Seattle [Verse 1: Sir Mix-A-Lot] Me and Kid Sensation with that home away from home In the fat butt dulie with the painted out chrome 15's whippin' in the backside With the boom boom boom thats how I ride And Cha Ching I'm a player making ballas holla I got a girl in Mississippi, but I never call her Cause it's like that I still got game I can memorize your number, but I still don't know your name The conservatives are thinking I'm a pimp (I'm a pimp) Just because I kind of stroll with a limp (With a limp) But I still got love for the few who stayed down But some of my ex's ain't around Why is that ?? Cause the rock man got them and their butt's just dropped They started losing weight Their grill's looking shot So I switched her I'm steadily keepin' 'em mixed up I'm keeping, down and holding my crown and giving them hiccupps Boo-Hooing (Boo-Hooing) When you call me But we was playing on each other so you are wrong, see Sitting around anti-nails Your disputing my sales Fantasizing 'bout counting my mail (chorus # 2) ( Repeat x4) [Verse 2: Sir Mix-A-Lot] Lady listen, Do I really make your man that pissed ?? ( mmm-hmmm) Flipped it around and tell your man like this (mmm-hmmm) If you hate Mix, than why you talk about Mix ? You say you ain't a trick, but you trippin' so she's splittin' Now she's coming out to Mrs. Ponderosa She drove a beater so I heard her getting closer She got an old V-Dub (Volkswagen) with the damaged exaust But she was fine, so I figured I could toss And watch the 808 kick drum Makes this girlie get dumb She's grabbing on my bum tryin' to get one And I'm taxing, waxing, I gotta take a note Frrrtttt!!! Farted on the downstroke (ewwwwweeww) Playa's in the house can you feel me Got these playahaters lookin' at me silly But with this mouthpiece a brother's gotta win The ladies say you are fine, but your mackin' is kind of thin No more Broadway, I'm hollering Rainier Swoop around blocks dropping windows yelling, "Come Here" And you complain cause I mad a little change Its all in the game, boy to hell with the fame (Chorus #2) Repeat x4 Then falls into Chorus #1 (1x) [Verse 3: Sir Mix-A-Lot] I got my buck on them rolling down to Cali I got a brand new home out in the valley Jumping off I-5 I crack a left-eye, got to pick my homey up the attitude adjuster Seven in a jet black truck with a deaf black G-Lock in case we out of luck Cause with these haters you gotta keep your strap Cause we taking all their sugars now they tryin to take us back (Yep) So you got your and I got mine, so why do you whine about my grind ?? Sitting around blaming Mix-a-Lot for your situation Boy get a job and quit player hatin' It ain't about winning your respect I'm just checking more mail than you check So heres the finger next to my index I'm all about your lady Cause she's all abou the sizex (sex) haha (chorus #2) Repeat 4x Yeah, the Pacific Time Zone's head honcho The amigo force feed you soe of this bad ass ego You know what I'm saying Try going platinum suckas Dos Tres Watch out for Cuatro, Motherfm{*bleeped out*}