Creepin' like a shark
Bring it back
Back on the four lane freeway
Attitude's out of it
You see the Mix game is laced with riddles
Showin' no remorse
Every freak in Sac is dissin'
All the girls keep callin' us sexist
The two-one-three is rough
My reputation is stoppin' my mission
Met a little freak named Stacy
The next club, The Main Event
An' ah told a lit'l lie
We never think about a dress code
"What'd you say?" I ain't tellin' you
He said, "You don't wanna be with a rap star
A rappers reputation
My reputation offends this man
Girlies in the club wasn't takin' no shorts
That's what I got
Spot a young girl and I start that gamin'
Wendy starts to groovin'
Please! All ya'll rappers is tramps"
But the Mixalot game is tough
Tight quick, but leave your name and number 'n I'll
And the hunt ain't done
"Just cuz I rap, I gotta be in gang?"
I walked up and got pushed back
Getcha right back, peace"
That's how I got this reputation
Wendy got mad and she wants to dis me
First stop Sacramento
They tell me 'bout the girls in the fifth ward
She gave me that look, like Pebbles
In Kansas City
Want a skirt to git wit' me, hit me
There's a girl with a back like a Cadillac
For a brother like Mix, lookin' for the smooth
That's what I got
Lookin' for the skirts with the largest booties
A rappers reputation
Her boyfriend tell her I'm a play-a
'N said, I was a loyal guy
I mack with bass not treble
Got memories Mixalot left in limbo
Two days on the hard rock, boys is cruisin'
Censorship is sweepin' the nation
With a rap stars rep, the girls are lost
A rappers reputation
Dropped salt on a dope rhyme say-a
It ain't moaney, it's Mix in the middle
So we stepped to the van
It ain't a black thang, it's a rap thang
Interstate Ten, straight to Houston
In K.C. we go The Gates and Suns
They play you for your money and your car"
Next stop, the two-one-three, L.A.
Houston media is givin' us rappers no pity
A rappers reputation
I said, "I'm not just here for the Barbecue, baby"
Gotta get grub 'fore we run
Here we go, hit a club called Bentleys
"Hey yo, what's up, this is Mix I had to make a run
Because Wendy trusted, Me?
Well, my boy got crushed but the girl stepped off
So I say, "Oogley-goo oogley-doo-goo-doo"
That's what I got
A rappers reputation
So we all hit Kansas City
Ooh, could a brother be busted
So the posse left Houston Texas
Didn't need a Houston skirt to get with me
Got a rappers reputation
She got a fresh Dooney Bag
She said, "The Mixalot game is phony"
But as soon as my boy Maharaji pulls up
Some punk starts runnin' up
You know the boys must score
Just 'cause I said I'm runnin' girls like ponies
A rappers reputation
Spot a bad freak and I swoop like a hawk
"What up?, howya like to roll wit' a champ?
'Cause she's tired of Fendi
I knock, baby, but it's time to leave
Just step up in the club and let the game roll
I got a rappers reputation
But the nights still young
So we hit a fly club called Guchies
In walked my ex named Wendy
Bring it on down
But talkin' that stuff is my occupation
Next day hit Williamland Park
Baby, girl asks what set am I claimin'
Hands on her hips and her hair starts movin'
Messin' up a rap stars reputation
So I'm finished with the two-one-three
