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  • 作词 : 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 sacremento
    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 **** 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
    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 hunk 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
    Right quick, but leave your name and number 'n i'll
    Getcha right back, peace."
    So the posse left houston texas
    All the girls keep callin' us ***ist
    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'm acked 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
    Oooh, 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.
  • 作词 : 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 sacremento
    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 **** 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
    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 hunk 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
    Right quick, but leave your name and number 'n i'll
    Getcha right back, peace."
    So the posse left houston texas
    All the girls keep callin' us ***ist
    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'm acked 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
    Oooh, 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.