I Ain’t Mad at All Songtext
von Public Enemy

Let me hear you say

I ain′t mad at all
Bought a fat jam to make you flip the script
Don't want to slip and misbehave
I′m not from around here, understand what I'm saying?

I'm all about makin′ some fat Louies
So I can buy my kids motorcycles, candybars, Peter Paul
Flavor Flav, he ain′t mad at all, boy

Poppa's got a brand new flav
So once again, here we go (I ain′t mad at all)
Poppa's got a brand new flav
So once again, here we go (I ain′t mad at all)

Poppa's got a brand new flav
So once again, here we go (what you know?)
Poppa′s got a brand new flav
So once again, here we go (what you know 'bout that boy?)


Noodles, neon noodles
On a fifth chillin' with a toy mutt
He′s chillin′, thought he had a pitbull
Eating brussel sprouts but he had a big bite

He tried to bite me, he tried to get me
I turned around and I hit him with my bike
They picked me up, put me in a wagon
The bottom fell out and my ass start draggin'

Who put the cuffs on Flava (draggin′)
Why you gonna go and do that (draggin')
He′s the flavour Mack (draggin')
I ain′t mad at all (I ain't mad at all)

Who put the cuffs on Flava
Why you gonna go and do that
He's our flavour Mack (yo check out my honey hoes)
Sing that shit gee

That′s Flavor Flav, so watch your girlie
Before she wanna sneak out early
′Cause on the deal, Flavor snatched her up
Kick it, kick it


First there was superfly (yeah, yeah)
But Flavor's got more style (rock it, rock it)
And you can′t tell because you're crackin′ up
Let me hear you say, uh

Kick it, kick it
I ain't mad at all
I ain′t mad at all
Hey, come on
(I ain't mad at all) like this show, kick it, come on y'all
(I ain′t mad at all)

I got the feeling I got to tell ya
You′ll be a star and the man try to jail ya
I don't pollute, so why should I give a hoot?
You ask, "Why you livin′ foul?"
(Na, na, na, na, na, na...)

Why they wanna keep me down?
'Cause you got Flavor workin′ day and night
Why you wanna play me like fried ice cream?
Give me nightmares, can't never have a nice dream

I feel like bustin′ loose
Bustin' loose, give me a break y'all
You can try to cop my style
But Flavor Flav got too much on file, boy

I don′t wanna go but I can′t stay here no more
I ain't mad at all
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
You′re flat linin', you′re flat linin', you know what I′m sayin'
Get the cops, kick it

Who put the cuffs on Flava (hey)
Why you gonna go and do that (like that, like that)
Who put the cuffs on Flava (kick it like that)
(I ain't mad at all)

Who put the cuffs on Flava (Flav)
(I ain′t mad at all)
Who put the cuffs on Flava (Flav)
(I ain′t mad at all) like that, like that

Who put the cuffs on Flava (Flav)
(I ain't mad at all) tell me, tell me
Who put the cuffs on Flava (Flav)
(I ain′t mad at all) you know, you know what I'm talkin′ about
Who put the cuffs on Flava (Flav)