Lyrics Don't Call Me Da Da - Sir Mix-A-Lot

Don't Call Me Da Da

Don’t call me Da Da!
The next story, met a young skirt, said her name was LaurieSmoked much dank,
but her life was boringGot with Mix, now she adores meNasty nigga named Mix
(yep)On a tour bus with the porno flicks (mm)Anxious 'cause I want to knock
bootsAnd I don’t sleep with the girls in my groupSo Mack Daddy is strollin and
patrollinBig fat bank I’m holdinBus pulls up to the mini martAnd that’s where
Laurie works and my game startsLaurie knows nothin bout rap thoughAnd that
peeled my superstar cap, soI’ll just go back to the basicsAnd even that game is
stiff, baby, face itSo now Laurie and me is headed to the?
monkey dope?
Straight gettin to the?
monkey poke?
Dip dip dip, one two three*she moans*
'Cause I’m a vet’ran, seeI kissed her cheek while Laurie was asleepLet one more
groupie use me (mm)One year later she’s tryin to creepON MY MONEYBut I ain’t
the one to get played the sap (uh-uh)When I hit the sack, big Richard is
cappedYour man’s a punk for leavin kids with youThe baby’s cute,
but don’t call me Da Da!
Don’t call me Da Da!
I’m sittin, in Long Beach Cali, eatin Popeyes' chickenThinkin bout the next
snake charmer I’m hittinMet a fly skirt, nickname was KittenAnd I start spittin,
WhassUP with the brother in the passenger seat?
Homeboy bailed 'cause his game
was weakAnd he was callin her bitch, I was callin her babyHe got the finger,
I got the ladyMe and Kitten left the place quickened (yep)Busta,
you and cousin Kitten need a stickinTO THE 'TEL, TO THE 'TEL, TO THE 'TEL WE
RUSH (gasp) The jimmy-hat bustI start sweatin, conscience bettinThat I’ma have
to deal with bed wettinBut I’ma handle this thing like a manSettle down and
bring the kid up, that’s the planThree weeks later I get this call thoughKitten
sounds happy on the telephoneShe said «Go on and live your life, bro,
'Cause EPT said no,"so don’t call me Da Da!
Don’t call me Da Da!
Don’t call me Da Da!
Da da!
Don’t call me Da Da!
I ain’t yo daddy, baby!
Da Da!
Don’t call me Da Da!