Luyện nghe bài hát National Anthem

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

Huey B. Newton shot in blood in west Oakland
Oliver North community service hours
for weapons to known terrorists
Tawana was brutally raped but two fools said she did it to
A six hundred million dollar stealth bomber to fly successfully
And you say I be proud of this song
about it AMERICA!

Verse Sir Mix-a-Lot

I'm living hell in a world of death
Protectors of the people bullet-proof vests
little nephew, flipped him a Uzi
Took to the streets, shot em up and "Who me?"
Locked in a trunk by Republican
suits, experts at killin
Civil war, but some out
in a box called the ghetto we shout
Headin for the strip 'cause the ain't hip
Sell a couple keys, the home boys trip
The president is a man's friend
The strong but the dope got in
the accused, but the trial was short
A black man's in a all white court
The jury dismissed, says, "Can em"
Now I'm ashamed of my national

Verse Two: Sir

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

Three: Sir Mix-a-Lot

Am I a communist? No. But my ain't slow
Not long ago, was po'
helped out by the ones with clout
I was mad at the world I felt 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 by, laughin at poverty
I in her face and I soon saw me
educated, but she can't get a job
The american dream once got robbed
Vietnam vets on the street, a shame
Fight for the man, and the man games
Dogged by the hippies, dope critics
You it on the soldier, but your government did it

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

Verse Sir Mix-a-Lot

Bolivia, Columbia, the CIA
Any similarities, I say
But the dope in, uncut like P-Funk
Headin over in a scent-free trunk
Coffee dope, but the dog can't sniff it
Remember that lady was broke, she's widdit
with a key, clocked 17 G's
Then got another shipment, D
Headin for Brumlen, the was betta
in a Porsche, in a cashmere sweater
Crime, revenge, I'm tellin you
The that laugh are the people that knows
Her community complained, callin the
But where was the community when she was in the
comin in, it's killin em at random
And I'm ashamed of my national

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