Lirik Lagu A Rapper's Reputation - Sir Mix-A-Lot
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I'm rollin' in a Nine-Oh van. California, that's my planGot memories Mix-A-Lot left in limbo, first stop SacrementoHere we go, hit a club called BentleysWant a skirt to git wit' me, hit meThere's a girl with a back like a CadillacI walked up and got pushed backHer boyfriend tell her I'm a play-aDropped salt on a dope rhyme say-aMy reputation offends this manNext day hit Williamland ParkCreepin' like a sharkSpot 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 missionEvery freak in Sac is dissin'Back on the four lane freewayNext stop, the two-one-three, L.A.The two-one-three is roughBut the Mixalot game is toughSpot 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 thangCensorship is sweepin' the nationMessin' up a rap stars reputation
A rappers reputation, that's what I got
So I'm finished with the two-one-threeI knock, baby, but it's time to leaveTwo days on the hard rock, boys is cruisin'Interstate Ten, straight to HoustonThey tell me 'bout the girls in the fifth wardYou know the boys must scoreSo we hit a fly club called GuchiesLookin' for the skirts with the largest bootiesGirlies in the club wasn't takin' no shortsShowin' no remorseFor a brother like Mix, lookin' for the smoothDidn't need a Houston skirt to get with meBut the nights still youngAnd the hunk ain't doneSo we stepped to the vanAttitude's out of itThe next club, The Main EventWe never think about a dress codeJust step up in the club and let the game rollBut as soon as my boy Maharaji pulls upSome punk starts runnin' upHe said you don't wanna be with a rap starThey play you for your money and your carWell my boy got crushed but the girl stepped offWith a rap stars rep, the girls are lost"Hey yo, what's up, this is Mix I had to make a runright quick, but leave your name and number 'n I'llgetcha right back, peace."
So the posse left Houston TexasAll the girls keep callin' us sexistHouston media is givin' us rappers no pitySo we all hit Kansas CityIn K.C. we go The Gates and SunsGotta get grub 'fore we runMet a little freak named StacyI said I'm not just here for the Barbecue babyShe gave me that look, like PebblesI'm acked with bass not trebleSo I say, Oogley-goo oogley-doo-goo-doo"What'd you say?" I ain't tellin' youYou see the Mix game is laced with riddlesIt ain't moaney, it's Mix in the middleIn walked my ex named WendyShe got a fresh Dooney Bag'Cause she's tired of FendiOooh, could a brother be bustedBecause Wendy trusted, Me?An' ah told a lit'l lie 'nSaid I was a loyal guyWendy got mad and she wants to dis meIn Kansas CityWendy starts to groovin'Hands on her hips and her hair starts movin'She said the Mix-A-Lot game is phonyJust 'cause I said I'm runnin' girls like poniesBut talkin' that stuff is my occupationThat's how I got this reputation
A rappers reputation, got a rappers reputationBring it on down. A rappers reputation, bring it backA rappers reputation, that's what I got. A rappersreputation, peace.
A rappers reputation, that's what I got
So I'm finished with the two-one-threeI knock, baby, but it's time to leaveTwo days on the hard rock, boys is cruisin'Interstate Ten, straight to HoustonThey tell me 'bout the girls in the fifth wardYou know the boys must scoreSo we hit a fly club called GuchiesLookin' for the skirts with the largest bootiesGirlies in the club wasn't takin' no shortsShowin' no remorseFor a brother like Mix, lookin' for the smoothDidn't need a Houston skirt to get with meBut the nights still youngAnd the hunk ain't doneSo we stepped to the vanAttitude's out of itThe next club, The Main EventWe never think about a dress codeJust step up in the club and let the game rollBut as soon as my boy Maharaji pulls upSome punk starts runnin' upHe said you don't wanna be with a rap starThey play you for your money and your carWell my boy got crushed but the girl stepped offWith a rap stars rep, the girls are lost"Hey yo, what's up, this is Mix I had to make a runright quick, but leave your name and number 'n I'llgetcha right back, peace."
So the posse left Houston TexasAll the girls keep callin' us sexistHouston media is givin' us rappers no pitySo we all hit Kansas CityIn K.C. we go The Gates and SunsGotta get grub 'fore we runMet a little freak named StacyI said I'm not just here for the Barbecue babyShe gave me that look, like PebblesI'm acked with bass not trebleSo I say, Oogley-goo oogley-doo-goo-doo"What'd you say?" I ain't tellin' youYou see the Mix game is laced with riddlesIt ain't moaney, it's Mix in the middleIn walked my ex named WendyShe got a fresh Dooney Bag'Cause she's tired of FendiOooh, could a brother be bustedBecause Wendy trusted, Me?An' ah told a lit'l lie 'nSaid I was a loyal guyWendy got mad and she wants to dis meIn Kansas CityWendy starts to groovin'Hands on her hips and her hair starts movin'She said the Mix-A-Lot game is phonyJust 'cause I said I'm runnin' girls like poniesBut talkin' that stuff is my occupationThat's how I got this reputation
A rappers reputation, got a rappers reputationBring it on down. A rappers reputation, bring it backA rappers reputation, that's what I got. A rappersreputation, peace.
