Текст песни Sir Mix-a-Lot - My Hooptie
Sir Mix-a-Lot - My Hooptie слова песни
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 stolenBumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin`Mis-matched tires, and my white walls flakin`Hit mickey-d`s, Maharaji starts to bugHe ate a quarter-pounder, threw the pickles on my rugRunnin`, movin` tabs expiredGirlies tryin` to dis `n say my car looks tiredHit my brakes, out slid skittlesTinted back window with a bubble in the middleWho`s car is it? Posse won`t sayWe all play it off when you look our wayRollin` four deep, tires smoke up the blockGotta roll this bucket, `cause my Benz is in the shopMy hooptie - my hooptieFour door nightmare, trunk locks` stuckBig dice on the mirror, grill like a truckLifters tickin`, accelerator`s stickin`Somethin` on my left front wheel keeps clickin`Picked up the girlies, now we`re eight deepCars barely movin`, but now we got heatMade a left turn as I watched in frightMy ex-girlfriend shot out my headlightShe was standin`, in the road, so I smashed her toesMashed my pedal, boom, down she goesLaw ain`t lyin`, long hairs flyin`We flipped the skeez off, dumb girl starts cryin`Baby called the cops, now I`m gettin` nervousThe cops see a beeper and the suckers might serve usHit a side street and what did we find?Some young punk, droppin` me a flip off signPut the deuce in reverse, and started to curseAnother sucker on the south side about to get hurtHomey got scared, so I got onYeah my group got paid, but my groups still strongPosse moved north, headin for the CDRidin` real fast so the cops don`t see meMis-matched tires got my boys uptightTwo Vogues on the left, Uniroyal on the rightHooptie bouncin`, runnin` on leadedThis is what I sport when you call me big-headedI pot-hole crusher, red light rusherMusher of a brother `cause I`m plowin` over suckersIn a hooptieIt`s a three-ton monster, econo-box stomperSnatch your girly, if you don`t I`ll romp `erDinosaur rush, lookin` like ShaftSome get bold, but some get smashedCops say the car smokes, but I won`t listenIt`s a six-nine deuce, so the hell with emissionsRollin` in Tacoma, I could get burned(Sound of automatic gunfire) Betta make a u-turnSpotted this freak with immense posteriorTryin` to roll smooth through the Hilltop areaBrother start lettin` off, kickin` that racketThinkin` I`m a rock star, slingin` them packetsI ain`t wit` dat, so I smooth ejectHit I-5 with the dope cassettePlayin` that tough crew hardcore dopeThe tape deck brokeDamn what`s next, brothers in GoretexTryin` to find a spot where we could hunt for sexFound a little club called the N-C-OMilitary, competition. You know.I ain`t really fazed, `cause I pop much gameRolled 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 thingRunnin` that game with the home made slangBaby got ished, Bremelo gip.Keep laughin` at the car and you might get clippedBy a hooptieRunnin` outta gas, stuck in trafficFar left lane, throwin` up much staticInput, output, carbeurator fulla soot"Whatcha want me to do Mix?"Push freak, pushSputter, sputter rollin` over guttersCars dip low with hard core brothersTank on E, pulled into ArcoCops on tip for Columbian cargoWe fit a stereotype, that`s what he saidBig long car, four big black headsCops keep jockin`, grabbin` like `gators`Bout stereotypes, I`m lookin` nuthin` like NoriegaCop took my wallet, looked at my licenseHis partner said "Damn, they all look like Tyson"Yes, I`m legit, so they gotta let me goThis bucket ain`t rollin` in snowIt`s my hooptie