A Rapper's Reputation Lyrics
| Song | A Rapper's Reputation |
| Artist | Sir Mix-A-Lot |
| Album | Mack Daddy |
| Download | 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. |
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