Letra de A Rapper's Reputation (Album Version)
I'm rollin' in a Nine-Oh, van California, that's my plan Got memories Mixalot left in limbo First stop SacramentoHere 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 backHer 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 ParkCreepin' 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 reputationA rappers reputation That's what I got I got a rappers reputationSo 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 HoustonThey 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 bootiesGirlies 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 meBut 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 EventWe 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' upHe 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 gotSo 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 CityIn 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' youYou 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 FendiOoh, could a brother be busted Because Wendy trusted, Me? An' ah told a lit'l lie 'N said, I was a loyal guyWendy 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 reputationA rappers reputation Got a rappers reputation Bring it on downA rappers reputation Bring it back A rappers reputation That's what I got A rappers reputation, peace