Текст песни A Rapper's Reputation - Sir Mix-A-Lot
I'm
rollin'
in
a
Nine-Oh,
van
California,
that's
my
plan
Got
memories
Mixalot
left
in
limbo
First
stop
Sacramento
Here
we
go,
hit
a
club
called
Bentleys
Want
a
skirt
to
git
wit'
me,
hit
me
There's
a
girl
with
a
back
like
a
Cadillac
I
walked
up
and
got
pushed
back
Her
boyfriend
tell
her
I'm
a
play-a
Dropped
salt
on
a
dope
rhyme
say-a
My
reputation
offends
this
man
Next
day
hit
Williamland
Park
Creepin'
like
a
shark
Spot
a
bad
freak
and
I
swoop
like
a
hawk
"What
up?,
howya
like
to
roll
wit'
a
champ?
Please!
All
ya'll
rappers
is
tramps"
My
reputation
is
stoppin'
my
mission
Every
freak
in
Sac
is
dissin'
Back
on
the
four
lane
freeway
Next
stop,
the
two-one-three,
L.A.
The
two-one-three
is
rough
But
the
Mixalot
game
is
tough
Spot
a
young
girl
and
I
start
that
gamin'
Baby,
girl
asks
what
set
am
I
claimin'
"Just
cuz
I
rap,
I
gotta
be
in
gang?"
It
ain't
a
black
thang,
it's
a
rap
thang
Censorship
is
sweepin'
the
nation
Messin'
up
a
rap
stars
reputation
A
rappers
reputation
That's
what
I
got
I
got
a
rappers
reputation
So
I'm
finished
with
the
two-one-three
I
knock,
baby,
but
it's
time
to
leave
Two
days
on
the
hard
rock,
boys
is
cruisin'
Interstate
Ten,
straight
to
Houston
They
tell
me
'bout
the
girls
in
the
fifth
ward
You
know
the
boys
must
score
So
we
hit
a
fly
club
called
Guchies
Lookin'
for
the
skirts
with
the
largest
booties
Girlies
in
the
club
wasn't
takin'
no
shorts
Showin'
no
remorse
For
a
brother
like
Mix,
lookin'
for
the
smooth
Didn't
need
a
Houston
skirt
to
get
with
me
But
the
nights
still
young
And
the
hunt
ain't
done
So
we
stepped
to
the
van
Attitude's
out
of
it
The
next
club,
The
Main
Event
We
never
think
about
a
dress
code
Just
step
up
in
the
club
and
let
the
game
roll
But
as
soon
as
my
boy
Maharaji
pulls
up
Some
punk
starts
runnin'
up
He
said,
"You
don't
wanna
be
with
a
rap
star
They
play
you
for
your
money
and
your
car"
Well,
my
boy
got
crushed
but
the
girl
stepped
off
With
a
rap
stars
rep,
the
girls
are
lost
"Hey
yo,
what's
up,
this
is
Mix
I
had
to
make
a
run
Tight
quick,
but
leave
your
name
and
number
'n
I'll
Getcha
right
back,
peace"
A
rappers
reputation
A
rappers
reputation
That's
what
I
got
So
the
posse
left
Houston
Texas
All
the
girls
keep
callin'
us
sexist
Houston
media
is
givin'
us
rappers
no
pity
So
we
all
hit
Kansas
City
In
K.C.
we
go
The
Gates
and
Suns
Gotta
get
grub
'fore
we
run
Met
a
little
freak
named
Stacy
I
said,
"I'm
not
just
here
for
the
Barbecue,
baby"
She
gave
me
that
look,
like
Pebbles
I
mack
with
bass
not
treble
So
I
say,
"Oogley-goo
oogley-doo-goo-doo"
"What'd
you
say?"
I
ain't
tellin'
you
You
see
the
Mix
game
is
laced
with
riddles
It
ain't
moaney,
it's
Mix
in
the
middle
In
walked
my
ex
named
Wendy
She
got
a
fresh
Dooney
Bag
'Cause
she's
tired
of
Fendi
Ooh,
could
a
brother
be
busted
Because
Wendy
trusted,
Me?
An'
ah
told
a
lit'l
lie
'N
said,
I
was
a
loyal
guy
Wendy
got
mad
and
she
wants
to
dis
me
In
Kansas
City
Wendy
starts
to
groovin'
Hands
on
her
hips
and
her
hair
starts
movin'
She
said,
"The
Mixalot
game
is
phony"
Just
'cause
I
said
I'm
runnin'
girls
like
ponies
But
talkin'
that
stuff
is
my
occupation
That's
how
I
got
this
reputation
A
rappers
reputation
Got
a
rappers
reputation
Bring
it
on
down
A
rappers
reputation
Bring
it
back
A
rappers
reputation
That's
what
I
got
A
rappers
reputation,
peace
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