Текст песни Sir Mix-A-Lot f Malika - Lead Yo Horse
Sir Mix-A-Lot f Malika - Lead Yo Horse слова песни
[ 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 `9-6Lead yo ass to the aqua, but I can`t make a brother richYou gotta go for self, and then help othersMama wasn`t lyin when she put you up on game, brotherAll up in the house gettin loud and disrespectin`Lik steps in, regulatin and hoe-checkinAll them makes wishes, ain`t already tryin to sympathizePlayers stay paid all day, but yo ass stays broke and highOh my, kids and stuff all over like some roller skatesStill I keeps it on my pape and niggas be tryin to playa-hateBut that`ll get you rolled up sidewaysWhoever said crime pays never got 3 strikes in L.A.Makes you lonely, sayin, contributin to minesYou could be hella fine, but ain`t nobody spendin minesMobbin with the Crowbar with some common senseYou 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 fatIs some of these lax-ass wanna-be macks, and you hoes in blackThey tracks sound booty, and they ain`t doin they dutyIn the studio, and only if you knew me, thoughYou`d see that I puts in work, and puts hurtOn your flirts that wanna wear skirts and try to jerkBut you`se in love with a fantasy, trickYou wanna `sit on yo ass, collect checks and shit`You was younger than me, so I schooled yaGave you the tools to come up and get down like a rulerTook you to executive brunches, high-powered lunchesGave you dough in bunchesSo get your fried chicken and your watermelonStart the yellin, Mix-A-Lot is why you ain`t sellinOld Uncle Tom nigga gettin madBut you know you never worked for the shit you hadStart drinkin, bitch[ CHORUS ]Hey yo, `Lik, fill in the blanksWhat`s up with these would-be gold diggers chasin entertainer niggasHandin out sugar daddy contracts to big black macks in black pimp CaddiesI mean excuse me for pimpin, but ah...[ VERSE 3: Malika ]Tryin to see a meal ticket like`s they big goalsRollin fat hoops and rollin gizzy stashin big loadsJump your woman, but ain`t handlin yo businessCounty aid plea, check so small you can`t buy bisquitsGot you a family, still you all up in minesFuckin off`s the hot rule, but see, `Lik gon` fit to be fineShe ain`t right, got her shorties runnin the streets with retardationBein barely sleep, puttin on that sneaky dick in herBoys will be boys, that`s how the game goesAsk Mix-A-Lot, they all hoes, and this player knowsBetter bumrush school and get your G.E.D.Cause welfare, homey, been cuttin back since `83Two carts ??? and still be tryin to frontUse your diaper money to load up them philly bluntsGet a 9 to 5, change your whole mindframeCause doin without ain`t what`s happenin, put yourself up on gameKill or hustle, somethin, gotta drink the water, girlThat`s from a sister, `broke` don`t exist in Malika`s world[ CHORUS ]