Luyện nghe bài hát National Anthem

Intro: Mix talks while The Star Spangled plays in the background

Huey B. Newton in cold blood in west Oakland
Oliver North receives service hours
for selling to known terrorists
Tawana was brutally raped but two said she did it to herself
A six hundred million dollar bomber fails to fly successfully
And you say I be proud of this song
Think it AMERICA!

Verse One: Sir

I'm living hell in a world of death
Protectors of the wear bullet-proof vests
Your little nephew, him a Uzi
to the streets, shot em up and then "Who me?"
Locked in a by Republican villains
Pinstripe suits, at killin
Civil war, but want out
Trapped in a box the ghetto we shout
Headin for the strip 'cause the squares hip
Sell a keys, make the home boys trip
The is a dope man's friend
The governments but the dope got in
Punish the accused, but the trial was
A man's dogged in a all white court
The dismissed, prosecutor says, "Can em"
Now I'm of my national anthem

Two: Sir Mix-a-Lot

The pentagon had a for a rescue
They said never makes miscues
The was a day of death
Colonel Higgins, you know the rest
No negotions with a terrorist
But Iran's buzzin' offa Oliver North
The Ayatollah's dead but the not gone
The burning of the in Iran goes on
Anti-American, loved by few
We pay big money to the that do
The christian militia, give us big knowledge
But the pentagon messed up and wouldn't
Ollie orders from the number one man
But the crap hit the fan and ran
tripped, the committee said can em
Now I'm ashamed of my anthem

Verse Three: Sir

Am I a communist? No. But my brain slow
Not ago, Mix-a-Lot was po'
Never out by the ones with clout
I was mad at the world cause I left out
Stealin hub caps, stereos, anything to get
I I'm a modern day slave
Posse downtown, the was set
I saw my boys mother with a buggy and a bag
People walk by, laughin at
I looked in her and I soon saw me
College educated, but she get a job
The american dream once again got
vets on the street, that's a shame
Fight for the man, and the man games
Dogged by the hippies, dope critics
You blame it on the soldier, but your did it

My anthem
My national
You gonna teach me now about the care and feedin of

Four: Sir Mix-a-Lot

Bolivia, Columbia, the CIA
Any similarities, I say
But the dope gets in, like P-Funk
Headin borders in a scent-free trunk
over dope, but the dog can't sniff it
Remember that that was broke, she's widdit
Started with a key, 17 G's
Then got shipment, pure D
for Brumlen, the money was betta
Rollin in a Porsche, in a sweater
Crime, revenge, I'm tellin you
The people that laugh are the that knows
Her community complained, the police
But was the community when she was in the street
Dope's comin in, it's em at random
And I'm ashamed of my anthem

My national
My anthem
My anthem
I'm ashamed of my national