I'm rollin' in a Nine-Oh van. California, that's my plan

Got memories Mix-A-Lot 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