Luyện nghe bài hát My Hooptie

My hooptie rollin' tailpipe
Heat don't an' my girl keeps naggin'
Six nine Buick deuce rollin'
One hubcap 'cause three got
Bumper shook loose chrome scrapin'
Mis matched and my white walls flakin'
Hit d's Maharaji starts to bug
He ate a quarter pounder the pickles on my rug
Runnin' movin' tabs
tryin' to dis 'n say my car looks tired
Hit my brakes, out skittles
Tinted back window with a bubble in the
Who's car is it? won't say
We all it off when you look our way
four deep, tires smoke up the block
Gotta roll this bucket, 'cause my is in the shop

My - my hooptie

door nightmare, trunk locks' stuck
Big on the mirror, grill like a truck
Lifters tickin', stickin'
Somethin' on my left front wheel clickin'
up the girlies, now we're eight deep

Cars movin', but now we got heat
Made a turn as I watched in fright
My ex-girlfriend out my headlight
She was standin', in the road, so I smashed her
my pedal, boom, down she goes
Law ain't lyin', hairs flyin'
We flipped the skeez off, dumb girl starts
called the cops, now I'm gettin' nervous
The see a beeper and the suckers might serve us
Hit a side street and did we find?
Some young punk, droppin' me a flip off
Put the in reverse, and started to curse
Another sucker on the south side to get hurt
got scared, so I got on
Yeah my group got paid, but my groups strong
Posse moved north, for the CD
Ridin' real so the cops don't see me
Mis-matched tires got my boys
Two Vogues on the left, on the right
bouncin', runnin' on leaded
This is what I sport when you me big-headed
I pot-hole crusher, red rusher
Musher of a brother 'cause I'm over suckers

In a

It's a three-ton monster, stomper
Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll 'er
rush, lookin' like Shaft
Some get bold, but get smashed
Cops say the car smokes, but I listen
It's a six-nine deuce, so the hell with
Rollin' in Tacoma, I could get
(Sound of automatic gunfire) Betta make a
Spotted this with immense posterior
Tryin' to roll smooth the Hilltop area
Brother lettin' off, kickin' that racket
Thinkin' I'm a star, slingin' them packets
I ain't wit' dat, so I smooth
Hit I-5 the dope cassette
Playin' that tough hardcore dope
The tape deck
Damn next, brothers in Goretex
Tryin' to find a spot we could hunt for sex
a little club called the N-C-O
Military, competition. You know.
I ain't fazed, 'cause I pop much game
Rolled up tough, 'cause I got much
"How ya doin' baby, my is Mixalot"
"Mixalot got a Benz boy, quit smokin' rock"
Ooooh, I got dissed. But it no thing
Runnin' that game with the home slang
Baby got ished, gip.
Keep at the car and you might get clipped

By a

outta gas, stuck in traffic
Far left lane, up much static
Input, output, carbeurator fulla
"Whatcha me to do Mix?"
Push freak,
Sputter, sputter rollin' gutters
Cars dip low with hard brothers
Tank on E, pulled into
Cops on tip for Columbian
We fit a stereotype, that's what he
Big car, four big black heads
Cops jockin', grabbin' like 'gators
'Bout stereotypes, I'm lookin' nuthin' like
Cop took my wallet, at my license
His said "Damn, they all look like Tyson"
Yes, I'm legit, so gotta let me go
This bucket ain't rollin' in

It's my