The Jack Back Lyrics - Sir Mixalot

"In this country a man's home is his castle.." 

[Sir Mix-a-Lot] 

I've been jacked by the racist scum, and here I come 

Klan, run - cause revenge is fun! And I'm that one 

to make you tapdance with a shotgun 

On Donahue they said they had weapons 

Just to teach black people one lesson 

but I ain't goin to your school of fools 

so come here, and look at my tools! 

You can meet and greet the Glock 19 in your nostrils 

I'll splatter your dreams 

Plans to overthrow are left in limbo 

cause one loco bro chose to dispose of you 

and your skinhead crew 

I ain't a house nigga with a twenty-two 

I dump a hollow-point slug in your windpipe 

Try to breathe {*choking*} believe the hype 

Cause this ain't the jungle fool 

and I don't throw SPEARS, and I ain't leavin here! 

A Nazi and you ain't never SEEN Germany 

but you was lookin for a enemy 

So you found a young brother with cash 

crashed my glass, snatched my whole stash 

Boy I'ma getcha back, like it ain't no thang 

Show you what I learned from the gangs 

Stack em up deep in a six-nine Deuce 

Long range scopes for the whole damn group 

Hangin outside a club called Moonshine 

Waitin for the right time.. 

There he is, walkin in the Levi's blue cut 

The Wicked One dropped two shots in his butt 

I can't solve racism with a gat 

but this is where my head's at - get em with a jack back! 

"You ask me the niggers around here 

been treated awful bad for a long time.." 

[The Wicked One] 

I've been sayin this, I gotta fix em 

I wanna fix em with a crucifixion 

Nail em to a cross and burn em 

BURN EM BURN EM BURN EM! 

It's been said that this would happen 

Skanless skinheads jackin 

All up in the crib insult for takin my force 

I had to break North 

The leader had a spraypaint can 

and on my wall wrote, 'Death to the black man' 

Burned a cross in front of the hideout 

Hopin they could get my race to die out 

I'ma cause em PAIN, physical and mental 

I speak slowly - through the temple 

The Wicked One is talkin trouble 

Blastin skulls into pieces of puzzle 

Damage em so bad, they can't stop me 

Not enough body left to get an autopsy 

Skinheads, stakin em out 

Bloodshed, takin em out 

Caught one of em, Mix said, "Go ahead" 

Thirty-eight, STRAIGHT to his forehead 

I hit em hard and it hit the spot 

I punish and plot with Mix-a-Lot 

Now where's the leader at? Gotta get him back 

Gotta get the gat, gotta get the axe 

Call it a revengeful murderous pact.. 

call it the jack back! 

"Some things are worth killing for" 

[Sir Mix-a-Lot] 

They burned a cross in my yard, caught a brother off guard 

but I can't cry, cause I'm HARD! 

They jacked another black, but this black wants payback 

I rack up killin stats! 

Now I'm on the hunt with a 12-gauge pump 

Massive hardware's in my trunk 

Creepin low.. and slow 

There's one - roll down the window 

Whassup, FOOL?!! ("Noooooooooo!!") *buck buck buck* 

It ain't done til the punk stops breathin; 

watch Kunta Kinte get even! 

It goes like that when a brother stays strapped 

Couldn't get a job so I learned to rap 

Livin kinda large and the skinheads hate me 

Run up in my house and they tried to take me 

Now I got the metal to his dome 

A Desert Eagle, dipped in chrome 

I got a black stocking cap yanked over my face 

Anger is takin rationality's place 

Hitler's in the house and I'm takin him out 

He shouts but the barrel's in his mouth 

Before I shoot, he wants to know if I'm white or black 

I yank my mask - this has been a jack back! 

"These boys were trained activists.." 

[The Wicked One] 

I'm not a slave but the Ku Klux Klan 

and the Aryan Nation say I am! 

What's behind the skinheads out to getcha? 

The reincarnation of Hitler 

Now I got a murderous attitude 

I'm in a put em in a casket mood! 

Remember the days of slavery? 

They hung many black men from a tree 

We fought to be free real hard 

and the black man's freedom must not be scarred! 

Callin me an African Sambo 

but after this, "American Psycho" 

And I'll smoke any skinhead racist 

with the black glock that's in my fist 

And the morgue'll be packed in body stacks 

Memories due to the jack back 

Caught the leader of the skinhead clan 

You know the one with the spraypaint can 

Drilled him with a crowbar {*gargling*} DIE! 

In the left ear, out the right eye 

Then I took a knife to his chest 

Carved a wicked message in a bloody mess 

It was a warning for the rest of his pack 

"This nigga got him with a jackback!"