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