My hooptie rollin', tailpipe draggin'
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Heat don't work an' my girl keeps naggin'
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Six-nine Buick, deuce keeps rollin'
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One hubcap 'cause three got stolen
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Bumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin'
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Mis-matched tires, and my white walls flakin'
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Hit mickey-d's, Maharaji starts to bug
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He ate a quarter-pounder, threw the pickles on my rug
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Runnin', movin' tabs expired
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Girlies tryin' to dis 'n say my car looks tired
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Hit my brakes, out slid skittles
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Tinted back window with a bubble in the middle
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Who's car is it? Posse won't say
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We all play it off when you look our way
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Rollin' four deep, tires smoke up the block
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Gotta roll this bucket, 'cause my Benz is in the shop
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My hooptie - my hooptie
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Four door nightmare, trunk locks' stuck
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Big dice on the mirror, grill like a truck
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Lifters tickin', accelerator's stickin'
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Somethin' on my left front wheel keeps clickin'
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Picked up the girlies, now we're eight deep
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Cars barely movin', but now we got heat
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Made a left turn as I watched in fright
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My ex-girlfriend shot out my headlight
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She was standin', in the road, so I smashed her toes
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Mashed my pedal, boom, down she goes
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Law ain't lyin', long hairs flyin'
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We flipped the skeez off, dumb girl starts cryin'
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Baby called the cops, now I'm gettin' nervous
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The cops see a beeper and the suckers might serve us
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Hit a side street and what did we find?
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Some young punk, droppin' me a flip off sign
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Put the deuce in reverse, and started to curse
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Another sucker on the south side about to get hurt
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Homey got scared, so I got on
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Yeah my group got paid, but my groups still strong
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Posse moved north, headin for the CD
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Ridin' real fast so the cops don't see me
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Mis-matched tires got my boys uptight
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Two Vogues on the left, Uniroyal on the right
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Hooptie bouncin', runnin' on leaded
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This is what I sport when you call me big-headed
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I pot-hole crusher, red light rusher
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Musher of a brother 'cause I'm plowin' over suckers
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In a hooptie
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It's a three-ton monster, econo-box stomper
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Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll romp 'er
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Dinosaur rush, lookin' like Shaft
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Some get bold, but some get smashed
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Cops say the car smokes, but I won't listen
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It's a six-nine deuce, so the hell with emissions
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Rollin' in Tacoma, I could get burned
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(Sound of automatic gunfire) Betta make a u-turn
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Spotted this freak with immense posterior
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Tryin' to roll smooth through the Hilltop area
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Brother start lettin' off, kickin' that racket
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Thinkin' I'm a rock star, slingin' them packets
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I ain't wit' dat, so I smooth eject
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Hit I-5 with the dope cassette
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Playin' that tough crew hardcore dope
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The tape deck broke
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Damn what's next, brothers in Goretex
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Tryin' to find a spot where we could hunt for sex
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Found a little club called the N-C-O
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Military, competition. You know.
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I ain't really fazed, 'cause I pop much game
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Rolled up tough, 'cause I got much fame
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"How ya doin' baby, my name is Mixalot"
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"Mixalot got a Benz boy, quit smokin' that rock"
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Ooooh, I got dissed. But it ain't no thing
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Runnin' that game with the home made slang
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Baby got ished, Bremelo gip.
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Keep laughin' at the car and you might get clipped
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By a hooptie
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Runnin' outta gas, stuck in traffic
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Far left lane, throwin' up much static
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Input, output, carbeurator fulla soot
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"Whatcha want me to do Mix?"
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Push freak, push
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Sputter, sputter rollin' over gutters
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Cars dip low with hard core brothers
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Tank on E, pulled into Arco
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Cops on tip for Columbian cargo
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We fit a stereotype, that's what he said
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Big long car, four big black heads
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Cops keep jockin', grabbin' like 'gators
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'Bout stereotypes, I'm lookin' nuthin' like Noriega
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Cop took my wallet, looked at my license
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His partner said "Damn, they all look like Tyson"
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Yes, I'm legit, so they gotta let me go
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This bucket ain't rollin' in snow
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It's my hooptie
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My Hooptie
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| Sir Mix-A-Lot |
