歌曲 | A Rapper's Reputation |
歌手 | Sir Mix-A-Lot |
专辑 | Mack Daddy |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
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 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 | |
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 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'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. |
zuo ci : Sir Mix A Lot ... | |
I' m rollin' in a nineoh 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 playa | |
Dropped salt on a dope rhyme saya | |
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 twoonethree, l. a. | |
The twoonethree 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 twoonethree | |
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 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' m acked with bass not treble | |
So i say, oogleygoo oogleydoogoodoo | |
" 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. |
zuò cí : Sir Mix A Lot ... | |
I' m rollin' in a nineoh 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 playa | |
Dropped salt on a dope rhyme saya | |
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 twoonethree, l. a. | |
The twoonethree 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 twoonethree | |
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 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' m acked with bass not treble | |
So i say, oogleygoo oogleydoogoodoo | |
" 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. |