Intro: Mix talks while The Star Spangled Banner plays in the background
|
|
Huey B. Newton shot in cold blood in west Oakland
|
Oliver North receives community service hours
|
for selling weapons to known terrorists
|
Tawana was brutally raped, but two fools said she did it to herself
|
A six hundred million dollar stealth bomber fails to fly successfully
|
And you say I should be proud of this song
|
Think about it AMERICA!
|
|
Verse One: Sir Mix-a-Lot
|
|
I'm living like hell in a world of death
|
Protectors of the people wear bullet-proof vests
|
Your little nephew, flipped him a Uzi
|
Took to the streets, shot em up and then "Who me?"
|
Locked in a trunk by Republican villains
|
Pinstripe suits, experts at killin
|
Civil war, but some want out
|
Trapped in a box called the ghetto we shout
|
Headin for the strip cuz the squares ain't hip
|
Sell a couple keys, make the home boys trip
|
The president is a dope man's friend
|
The governments strong but the dope got in
|
Punish the accused, but the trial was short
|
A black man's dogged in a all white court
|
The jury dismissed, prosecutor says, "Can em"
|
Now I'm ashamed of my national anthem
|
|
Verse Two: Sir Mix-a-Lot
|
|
The pentagon had a plan for a rescue
|
They said intelligence never makes miscues
|
The thirty-first was a day of death
|
Lieutenant Colonel Higgins, you know the rest
|
No negotions with a terrorist force
|
But Iran's still buzzin' offa Oliver North
|
The Ayatollah's dead but the hearts not gone
|
The burning of the flag in Iran goes on
|
Anti-American, we're loved by few
|
We pay big money to the ones that do
|
The christian militia, they give us big knowledge
|
But the pentagon messed up and wouldn't acknowledge
|
Ollie took orders from the number one man
|
But the crap hit the fan and superiors ran
|
Democrats tripped, the committee said can em
|
Now I'm ashamed of my national anthem
|
|
Verse Three: Sir Mix-a-Lot
|
|
Am I a communist? No. But my brain ain't slow
|
Not long ago, Mix-a-Lot was po'
|
Never helped out by the ones with clout
|
I was mad at the world cause I felt left out
|
Stealin hub caps, stereos, anything to get paid
|
I realize I'm a modern day slave
|
Posse downtown, the sight was set
|
I saw my home boys mother with a buggy and a bag
|
People walk by, laughin at poverty
|
I looked in her face and I soon saw me
|
College educated, but she can't get a job
|
The american dream once again got robbed
|
Vietnam vets on the street, that's a shame
|
Fight for the man, and the man plays games
|
Dogged by the hippies, dope smokin' critics
|
You blame it on the soldier, but your government did it
|
|
My national anthem
|
My national anthem
|
You gonna teach me now about the care and feedin of politicians
|
|
Verse Four: Sir Mix-a-Lot
|
|
Bolivia, Columbia, the CIA
|
Any similarities, I won't say
|
But the dope gets in, uncut like P-Funk
|
Headin over borders in a scent-free trunk
|
Coffee over dope, but the dog can't sniff it
|
Remember that lady that was broke, she's widdit
|
Started with a key, clocked 17 G's
|
Then got another shipment, pure D
|
Headin for Brumlen, the money was betta
|
Rollin in a Porsche, in a cashmere sweater
|
Crime, revenge, I'm tellin you this
|
The people that laugh are the people that knows
|
Her community complained, callin the police
|
But where was the community when she was in the street
|
Dope's comin in, it's killin em at random
|
And I'm ashamed of my national anthem
|
|
My national anthem
|
My national anthem
|
My national anthem
|
I'm ashamed of my national anthem
|
|
-----------------
|
National Anthem
|
Sir Mix-A-Lot |