Lead Yo Horse Lyrics by Sir Mix-a-lot

Lead Yo Horse Lyrics

    [ 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 '9-6
    Lead yo ass to the aqua, but i can't make a brother rich
    You gotta go for self, and then help others
    Mama wasn't lyin when she put you up on game, brother
    All up in the house gettin loud and disrespectin
    'lik steps in, regulatin and hoe-checkin
    All them makes wishes, ain't already tryin to sympathize
    Players stay paid all day, but yo ass stays broke and high
    Oh my, kids and stuff all over like some roller skates
    Still i keeps it on my pape and niggas be tryin to playa-hate
    But that'll get you rolled up sideways
    Whoever said crime pays never got 3 strikes in l.a.
    Makes you lonely, sayin, contributin to mines
    You could be hella fine, but ain't nobody spendin mines
    Mobbin with the crowbar with some common sense
    You 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 fat
    Is some of these lax-ass wanna-be macks, and you hoes in black
    They tracks sound booty, and they ain't doin they duty
    In the studio, and only if you knew me, though
    You'd see that i puts in work, and puts hurt
    On your flirts that wanna wear skirts and try to jerk
    But you'se in love with a fantasy, trick
    You wanna 'sit on yo ass, collect checks and shit'
    You was younger than me, so i schooled ya
    Gave you the tools to come up and get down like a ruler
    Took you to executive brunches, high-powered lunches
    Gave you dough in bunches
    So get your fried chicken and your watermelon
    Start the yellin, mix-a-lot is why you ain't sellin
    Old uncle tom nigga gettin mad
    But you know you never worked for the shit you had
    Start drinkin, bitch

    [ chorus ]

    Hey yo, 'lik, fill in the blanks
    What's up with these would-be gold diggers chasin entertainer niggas
    Handin out sugar daddy contracts to big black macks in black pimp caddies
    I mean excuse me for pimpin, but ah...

    [ verse 3: malika ]
    Tryin to see a meal ticket like's they big goals
    Rollin fat hoops and rollin gizzy stashin big loads
    Jump your woman, but ain't handlin yo business
    County aid plea, check so small you can't buy bisquits
    Got you a family, still you all up in mines
    Fuckin off's the hot rule, but see, 'lik gon' fit to be fine
    She ain't right, got her shorties runnin the streets with retardation
    Bein barely sleep, puttin on that sneaky dick in her
    Boys will be boys, that's how the game goes
    Ask mix-a-lot, they all hoes, and this player knows
    Better bumrush school and get your g.e.d.
    Cause welfare, homey, been cuttin back since '83
    Two carts ??? and still be tryin to front
    Use your diaper money to load up them philly blunts
    Get a 9 to 5, change your whole mindframe
    Cause doin without ain't what's happenin, put yourself up on game
    Kill or hustle, somethin, gotta drink the water, girl
    That's from a sister, 'broke' don't exist in malika's world

    [ chorus ]

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