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Song title: Sir Mix-a-lot - The Boss Is Back

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{boss}
{boss}
We have such sights to show you
This isnt for your eyes...
Aaaaaaa, the boss is back!
{boss}
The boss is back!
{boss}
{boss}

So I took a one-year hiatus
Aint nobody heard my latest
You thought mix-a-lot was through
But Im back; this boots on you
What happened to all the old homies?
When the money gets funny its lonely
My ex turned into a slut
Down at the hollywood, slangin that butt
Cheap perfume and a mini-skirt
Girl, whats your line of work?
Now that Im rollin, you wanna roll with me
But have you been to the clinic lately?
Yesterday you had six condoms, see
Today you got three
Tossed you out like a paper sack
This brother aint sprung on the cat
What about all the old homies?
I got paid so they call me phony
But I refuse to lay it low,
When a brother like you tells me I cant flow?
So here we go, bro, the leader of the flow show
Let you know, I roll and get mo
I yank the bank and I aint been ganked
Cause my back youre trying to shank, but no thanks!
My face shows pain and strain as I stand in the rain
With this fame, you go insane
The game I run is not fun to some,
And now I love no one!
The boss is back!

{big boss in effect, I aint bluffin!} Im back!
Your boss is back!
{big boss in effect, I aint bluffin!}
{big boss in effect, I aint bluffin!}

Tommy wants revenge
But I want your oxygen
When the game got thick you ran
Now in my face you stand
Beggin for a few hun?
Son, your fun meets my gun!
Now you scream youre true black
Boy, you need to chill with that!
Cause Im an e-qual op-por-tu-ni-ty de-stroyer
My gats my lawyer
Last week yous a stick-up kid
And this week youre in show biz
Standin on stage, another black wanna-be
Wanna get paid, so youre as balck as you gotta be
Throw up a peace sign, fakin the rhymes
Run out of lyrics, scratch in a malcom x line
Hypocrite, your hits break the bits
The boss of brain lays pain when I spit
Criticized, cause Im takin the dares
And now youre tryin to tell another brother what to wear?
Come off that tip, you know how it goes
Another brother gets shot and punks blame it on gold
Gold ropes?  naw, that aint your problem
The job of a rapper is to find em and solve em
Now youre crying bout what a brother owns
King died so you could buy your throne
I aint got time to take steps in reverse
You or the kkk, whos worse?
You told me to stay low in my ghetto
And so did the klan, so wake up, bro
Why do you think brothers is sellin dope, fool?
America, boy, the bankroll rules!
Play that hard role and say you aint with that
And everything youre cryin bout money on your contract
Talked about me bad, its time for the payback, black,
The boss is back!

{boss} Im back.

I dont know the meaning of trust
I gotta live so I do what I must
Some girlsll cross you when youre soft
Thats why Im my own damn boss
Theyll run you down with stress
If youre spring on the butt and chest
Id rather be sprung on the ducat
And put another damn freak in my bucket
I deal with women, not girls
Cause them young onesll shake your world
Im tellin it like it is
Cause a brother like mix aint losin his
I got about two or three clowns
That try to kick me when Im down
But when I come up, they all play dumb
All of a sudden, its we, not one
I zip up lips when I spit these hits
Im equipped to make misfits quit
Young bucks should all duck cause jaws are gettin struck
The luck gets chuched, so wussup!
I ram and cram my jams in the mouth of a man
Im kickin quicker than van damme
Face the facts, two platinums stack
Step off, fool, or get cracked!
The boss is back!

{whos the boss? }
Im back!
{whos the boss? }
The boss is back!
{whos the boss? }
{whos the} {boss}