Sir Mix-a-Lot

Sir Mix-a-Lot - Suburbian Nightmare songtekst

Je score:

[Verse 1]

You can check my blackness, fact is

I'm rough as a cactus

Now I gotta change what I practice

So I went to the suburbs and bought me a big house

And now they wanna run a brother out?

I'm a well-educated young maker of revenue

Rollin' in a big black BMW

So I'm supposed to fit because I'm straight legit

But the police STILL wanna trip

They accuse me of robbin' myself

Never seen a brother with wealth

Hell, I thought I was big, and now I'm trapped in the house

'Cause the cops got my crib staked out

The police chief is runnin' for comissioner

But if I get outta this, chief, I'm gettin' ya

Cheif needs a cover-up plan 'cause he heard I'm famous

Called a crazy white boy, name was Amos

I thought Amos was a burglar

But when he saw me, he said I never heard of ya

He couldn't tell north from south

But Amos was my only way out

of this suburbian nightmare



Huh 

Yeah

My suburbian nightmare



[Verse 2]

I may not look like Beaver, but you don't either

I bought a big house for the breather

Even in the suburbs, cops are my enemy

And all the rich liberals ain't friendly

So Amos got a shotgun and I got a skillet

Anything movin', I'ma straight up kill it

I'm a black man on the come-up, I got done up

And roughed up by a cop tryin' to get hooked up

I got a meal and I just sealed two more deals

And now I'm runnin' from the cops? This ain't real!

You see, the cops sent Amos in to play that role,

Be a burglar and rob my home?

They offered him a deal and then took it back

Ol' Amos should have signed them a contract

Cheif walks in talkin' that +nigga+ smack

*punch* "oof!" "+nigga, take+ that!"

Now they want me for attempted murder

The craziest case that a brother ever heard of

The neighborhood fears me, they're scared to get near me

The cops wanna smear me

My suburbian nightmare



Suburbian nightmare



[Verse 3]

I used to eat pig feet, now I'm eatin' lobster

Gettin' my check, boy, the hell with them propers

Life still ain't changed 'cause I gotta get my hustle on

Just to get these cops gone

Four or five mil' can't make my race change

It can make the pace change, but it won't maintain

I can't go outside to jog

'Cause my next-door neighbor got a prejudiced dog

But it's America, home of the free

Life in the 'burbs ain't nothin' like TV

Now I'm runnin' from the cop clan

'Cause my neighborhood told the cops: "It was a black man"

Mr. and Mrs. Gilman next door

Puffin' on a joint, kinky to the core

And that's the typical role model

White picket fence, big house and a bottle

Who can I blame for the stereotypical mix-up?

The innocent again get tricked up

Things is supposed to change when you grow to my size

Open your eyes to my suburbian nightmare



[black woman laughing]

Huh!

My suburbian nightmare

[black woman laughing]

My suburbian nightmare

[black woman laughing]
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Taal: Engels

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