Lyrics Sir Mix-A-Lot

Sir Mix-A-Lot

My Hooptie

My hooptie rollin', tailpipe draggin'

Heat don't work an' my girl keeps naggin'

Six-nine Buick, deuce keeps rollin'

One hubcap 'cause three got stolen

Bumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin'

Mis-matched tires, and my white walls flakin'

Hit mickey-d's, Maharaji starts to bug

He ate a quarter-pounder, threw the pickles on my rug

Runnin', movin' tabs expired

Girlies tryin' to dis 'n say my car looks tired

Hit my brakes, out slid skittles

Tinted back window with a bubble in the middle

Who's car is it? Posse won't say

We all play it off when you look our way

Rollin' four deep, tires smoke up the block

Gotta roll this bucket, 'cause my Benz is in the shop

My hooptie - my hooptie

Four door nightmare, trunk locks' stuck

Big dice on the mirror, grill like a truck

Lifters tickin', accelerator's stickin'

Somethin' on my left front wheel keeps clickin'

Picked up the girlies, now we're eight deep

Cars barely movin', but now we got heat

Made a left turn as I watched in fright

My ex-girlfriend shot out my headlight

She was standin', in the road, so I smashed her toes

Mashed my pedal, boom, down she goes

Law ain't lyin', long hairs flyin'

We flipped the skeez off, dumb girl starts cryin'

Baby called the cops, now I'm gettin' nervous

The cops see a beeper and the suckers might serve us

Hit a side street and what did we find?

Some young punk, droppin' me a flip off sign

Put the deuce in reverse, and started to curse

Another sucker on the south side about to get hurt

Homey got scared, so I got on

Yeah my group got paid, but my groups still strong

Posse moved north, headin for the CD

Ridin' real fast so the cops don't see me

Mis-matched tires got my boys uptight

Two Vogues on the left, Uniroyal on the right

Hooptie bouncin', runnin' on leaded

This is what I sport when you call me big-headed

I pot-hole crusher, red light rusher

Musher of a brother 'cause I'm plowin' over suckers

In a hooptie

It's a three-ton monster, econo-box stomper

Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll romp 'er

Dinosaur rush, lookin' like Shaft

Some get bold, but some get smashed

Cops say the car smokes, but I won't listen

It's a six-nine deuce, so the hell with emissions

Rollin' in Tacoma, I could get burned

(Sound of automatic gunfire) Betta make a u-turn

Spotted this freak with immense posterior

Tryin' to roll smooth through the Hilltop area

Brother start lettin' off, kickin' that racket

Thinkin' I'm a rock star, slingin' them packets

I ain't wit' dat, so I smooth eject

Hit I-5 with the dope cassette

Playin' that tough crew hardcore dope

The tape deck broke

Damn what's next, brothers in Goretex

Tryin' to find a spot where we could hunt for sex

Found a little club called the N-C-O

Military, competition. You know.

I ain't really fazed, 'cause I pop much game

Rolled up tough, 'cause I got much fame

"How ya doin' baby, my name is Mixalot"

"Mixalot got a Benz boy, quit smokin' that rock"

Ooooh, I got dissed. But it ain't no thing

Runnin' that game with the home made slang

Baby got ished, Bremelo gip.

Keep laughin' at the car and you might get clipped

By a hooptie

Runnin' outta gas, stuck in traffic

Far left lane, throwin' up much static

Input, output, carbeurator fulla soot

"Whatcha want me to do Mix?"

Push freak, push

Sputter, sputter rollin' over gutters

Cars dip low with hard core brothers

Tank on E, pulled into Arco

Cops on tip for Columbian cargo

We fit a stereotype, that's what he said

Big long car, four big black heads

Cops keep jockin', grabbin' like 'gators

'Bout stereotypes, I'm lookin' nuthin' like Noriega

Cop took my wallet, looked at my license

His partner said "Damn, they all look like Tyson"

Yes, I'm legit, so they gotta let me go

This bucket ain't rollin' in snow

It's my hooptie