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Correct My Bad Side Lyrics
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Artists: S
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Sir Mix-A-Lot
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Correct My Bad Side
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Lyrics:
(*sounds of gun shots being fired*) (*person yelling*) [Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking to another person] Hey yo, ain't you the one that was talkin crazy to me other day on Rain Ear (Yeah that was me, what you gonna do about it Mix-A-Lot?) (*gun blast*) [Sir Mix-A-Lot] Rushin up the middle like a fullback It's my drug, head to head contact Mack 11, my best friend in full effect That's the beat that you been lookin for, no pussy check Come quietly the punishment awaits you I'm playin games and I know you can't relate too Surprise my rhyme hit you from the blind side You better chill cause your messin with my bad side [Break - with *scratching* and variations] (*Suckers getting tossed*) "My, my, my, my, my bad side" (*Suckers gettin tossed*) (*Suckers gettin tossed*) "*My, my, my, my, my bad side*" (*Suckers gettin tossed*) "*My, my, my, my, my bad side*" "*My bad side*" [Sir Mix-A-Lot] Drop the "Square Dance" punk I ain't bullshittin Tell ya girl about how hard this shit's gettin Shoot 'em down like the All World Crime Boss Break soft and like a salad you'll get tossed Voice like rock effects I don't need 'em You drop for your boss, I'm like a pimp when I greet 'em Role like son, your just another recruit Salute roody poos to your king I'm in the black boots The beat's runnin like a Benz in the fast lane Over do it, put your speakers in a freeze frame Watch the bunny while I inject the venom Screams of pain cause my rhymes up in 'em Rushin like a buffalo, and wild like a Navajo Reckless like the plo, bring it back and here we go The bass drum dancin through to get dumb Girls on my tip doin flips because I'm well hung Never been a fan of yours, vapors say my game's slick You find something then you hide it with a drum chick Takin apart every rap that's on the charts Mix there with yours, spin it back it ain't hard Please, get up and take brown tip punk Cause you might get dumped Your producers are bitin, your gettin paid but your lame And no two songs of mine sound the same Fame is not needed to acquire great wealth Pick pocket posse pick up the pace you need help Sucker, you better step to the stand by Because your messin with my Bad Side [Break - *scratching*] *My, my, my, my, my bad side* *My, my, my, my, my bad side* [Sir Mix-A-Lot] I'm like thunder, a barbaric like warrior And I got the beat for ya Bumpin in your trunk like a hump of funk punk You wanna jump but your jump got skunked Pick 'em up ref, eight count his lights are out Lookin for the jab but he caught my roundhouse Stereo effect our words connect Pick up the mic and check our muscles flex Loosen up your belt so my rhyme is dealt You might gain wealth but can you do it yourself, nope You stole a beat from a old great record Call my record weak, here it is now you break it You say I'm broke but I'm ridin in a Benzo What you rollin boy a Hugo? Tryin to roll with the girls your callin Mix-A-Lot a sucker Who you callin sucker, lip-synching motherfucker Move the set boy how's this fiasco I'm in your gutter and I'm singin like Tabasco, sucker You better step to the stand by Because your messin with my Bad Side [Break - *scratching* - mixed in with talking in background*] "*My, my, my, my, my bad side*" "My Bad Side" "*My, my, my Bad Side*" "*My, my, my, my, my bad side*" [Sir Mix-A-Lot] Gun in my nose, slap my girl in her face Took both my beepers and my I'll skin case Snatched all my gold, sucker punk and he's gone He made a break for the car and now the chase is on Rollin up the Avenue high speed chase, yes Caddy was back but my Benz was in his face Left toward South Shore, wrong way homey This street's for Mix-A-Lot's posse only Looked in his mirror saw my big gold grill Ain't no place to run so you might as well chill Jumped from the car like he wanted to run And Maharashi on the roof (yo drop the gun) Punk dropped that, so I dropped mine You see I'd rather box, than have to use my nine Punk buckled up from a one, two punch My girl stomped the sucker with a high heel pump Cops on my jock, I broke round the block Chase cars eat dust and G don't stop Smoker, you needed drugs for your next high You pull a gat on my Bad Side [Skit at the end of the song - Two guys talking outside Sir Mix-A-Lot's house] Guy #1: Alright man, let's kick the door down and Break in their man, We can get all his stuff, man, he got gold, man (word) The jewelry man and a old Corvette in the garage, I'm a get me in that man *"My Bad Side"* Guy #2: I want him, I want Mix-A-Lot man Guy: I know well listen, take him out man Guy #2: He dissed my sister Guy: Don't let him get away man, take his girl out man Guy: I know my homeboy slapped his girl Guy #2: I know, yeah, let's get it, let's get in, let's get in Guy: Kick the door down, ready Sir Mix-A-Lot: welcome to my house punks, yeah! (*gun blasts*) (*yelling*) Sir Mix-A-Lot: That's right punk, try to run punk (*gun blasts*) (*yelling*) Sir Mix-A-Lot: Oh you the last one, huh Guy: Oh, come on Mix, let me go, don't point that gun (*Two gun shots fired*) [Sir Mix-A-Lot] You boys got to learn not to step up in my house with that weak gat
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