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