Lyrics Language: Scots Song writer/composer(s): Anthony L. Ray
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Sir Mix-a-LotMack Daddy 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
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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