Lyrics:

*girl weeping*



WHAT'S WRONG, SWEETHEART?

DON'T YOU WANT ME?

YOU PAID FOR ME. KNEEL TO ME.

*rhythmic sniffing*

SMOKE ME. BREATHE ME. INHALE ...

HA HA HA HA HA HA, I'M YOUR NEW GOD.



(Sir Mix-a-Lot)

She's only 16, she looks lost

Bought crack from the dopeman, and got tossed

Livin on the streets, smoked out

Perfect individual for me to bust out

You can sniff me, or you can puff me

But the girl shoulda known, you can't trust me

She's only 98 pounds and lonely

She calls to her God for help, and that's me

COCAINE, go ahead n' use me, heh heh

Momma won't know you're a junkie

Just put me in your pipe, light and SUCK

*deep inhale* Cluck cluck cluck!

And while you're high, grab a 12 gauge

Jump back on the streets, in a crack rage

The only way out is the sucicide route

Put the gauge at your dome and TAKE IT OUT

Now I'm on the 6 o'clock news

All my movies get the rave reviews

60 Minutes had a special on me

The god called Crack is killin your society

Colombia is where I get picked

I can kill with a 90-10 split

I work through the week, my pleasure is pain

And I'm your new God

You can call me Cocaine



Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Cocaine

Heh heh heh

Go ahead n' smoke me



(Sir Mix-a-Lot)

Brothers throwin up a set to protect me

I'm worth a lot so money so respect me

Doin damage on the boulevard, just like that

*gunfire* Shoot 'em over crack

Dope dealers would kill for me

Cause if ya sell me, I help ya live lovely

You want a Porsche? Move a few ki's

Just remember that your God is me

The task force bum rushed one of my employees

A big score, 23 ki's

Now ya see another dopeman sink

And one young cop on the brink

The cop's thinkin bout pinchin

And alimony checks to his wife for the rent and

Kids, so the profit is slow

And he wants to make his bankroll grow

23 ki's just sittin in the back seat

I can make the best man weak

So the cop hits the streets to sell a little pain

Now the cop has a God

You can call me Cocaine



Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Cocaine

Smoke this

Smoke it

Smoke it



(Sir Mix-a-Lot)

The only way I can be stopped is with intelligence

And you don't get it, so that's irrelevant

So you die, or else go to jail

And I'm happy as hell

I tried to get a young kid but he just said no

Because of some sports hero

So I entered the hero's house in the form of a line

And let him snort one time

Now he'd dead, cause my dose was pure

Got him too quick for the cure

So the headlines read, 'Dope Made Another Hit'

*sniff* Dead on the first sniff

Now the kid is lookin for another hero

I let him know the other fool was a zero

He hits the streets, lookin for a remedy

They introduce him to me

I don't need another junky, just a flunky

Besides, the little punk was spunky

So I put him in a fresh pair o' Dickies

Give him a beeper, and let him terrorize the city

Put him in a gang, teach him to slang

Another young punk deep in the game

He'll be lucky if he lives til' 18

And I'm his new God

You can call me Cocaine



Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Cocaine

Go ahead n' use me

Smoke me

Hm hm hm hm hm hm