Released: October 17, 1989
Songwriter: Sir Mix-a-Lot
[Verse 1]
My hooptie rollin', tailpipe draggin'
Heat don't work and my girl keeps naggin'
Six-nine Buick, deuce keeps rollin'
One hubcap 'cause three got stolen
Bumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin'
Mismatched tires and my whitewalls flakin'
Hit Mickey-Ds, Maharaji starts to bug
He ate a Quarter Pounder, threw the pickles on my rug
Runnin', movin', tabs expired
Girlies try to diss and 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
[Chorus]
My hooptie (I drive a bucket), hardcore tint (Yo)
I drive a bucket (Hardcore tint), yo
My hooptie (I drive a bucket), hardcore tint (Yo)
I drive a bucket (Hardcore tint), yo
[Verse 2]
Four-door nightmare, trunk lock 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
Car's 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
Boy, I ain't lyin', long hair's 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 group's still strong
Posse moved north, headin' for the CD
Ridin' real fast so the cops don't see me
Mismatched 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
A pothole crusher, red light rusher
Musher of a brother 'cause I'm plowin' over suckers in a hooptie
[Verse 3]
It's a three-ton monster, econobox stomper
Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll romp her
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
Better make a U-turn
Spotted this freak with immense posterior
Tryin' to roll smooth through the Hilltop area
Brothers start lettin' off, kickin' that racket
Thinkin' I'm a rock star slangin' them packets
I ain't with that, so I smooth eject
Hit I-5 with the dope cassette
Playin' that Tuff Crew hardcore dope
The tape deck broke
Damn, what's next? Brothers in Gore-Tex
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 phased 'cause I pop much game
Rolled up tough 'cause I got much fame
"How ya doin', baby? My name is Mix-a-Lot"
"Mix-a-Lot got a Benz, boy, quit smokin' that rock" (Ooh)
I got dissed, but it ain't no thang
Runnin' that game with the homemade slang
Baby got ished, Bremelo gip
Keep laughin' at the car and you might get clipped by a hooptie
[Chorus]
Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll—
Rollin' with your posse is the only way to go
Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll—
Rollin' with your posse is the only way to go
[Verse 4]
Runnin' outta gas, stuck in traffic
Far left lane, throwin' up much static
Input, output, carburetor full of soot
"What you want me to do, Mix?" Push, freak, push
Sputter, sputter rollin' over gutters
Cars dip low with hardcore 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' nothin' 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
[Outro]
My hooptie (Yo, bully)
It's my hooptie
My hooptie rollin', tailpipe draggin'
Heat don't work and my girl keeps naggin'
Six-nine Buick, deuce keeps rollin'
One hubcap 'cause three got stolen
Bumper shook loose, chrome keeps scrapin'
Mismatched tires and my whitewalls flakin'
Hit Mickey-Ds, Maharaji starts to bug
He ate a Quarter Pounder, threw the pickles on my rug
Runnin', movin', tabs expired
Girlies try to diss and 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
[Chorus]
My hooptie (I drive a bucket), hardcore tint (Yo)
I drive a bucket (Hardcore tint), yo
My hooptie (I drive a bucket), hardcore tint (Yo)
I drive a bucket (Hardcore tint), yo
[Verse 2]
Four-door nightmare, trunk lock 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
Car's 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
Boy, I ain't lyin', long hair's 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 group's still strong
Posse moved north, headin' for the CD
Ridin' real fast so the cops don't see me
Mismatched 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
A pothole crusher, red light rusher
Musher of a brother 'cause I'm plowin' over suckers in a hooptie
[Verse 3]
It's a three-ton monster, econobox stomper
Snatch your girly, if you don't I'll romp her
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
Better make a U-turn
Spotted this freak with immense posterior
Tryin' to roll smooth through the Hilltop area
Brothers start lettin' off, kickin' that racket
Thinkin' I'm a rock star slangin' them packets
I ain't with that, so I smooth eject
Hit I-5 with the dope cassette
Playin' that Tuff Crew hardcore dope
The tape deck broke
Damn, what's next? Brothers in Gore-Tex
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 phased 'cause I pop much game
Rolled up tough 'cause I got much fame
"How ya doin', baby? My name is Mix-a-Lot"
"Mix-a-Lot got a Benz, boy, quit smokin' that rock" (Ooh)
I got dissed, but it ain't no thang
Runnin' that game with the homemade slang
Baby got ished, Bremelo gip
Keep laughin' at the car and you might get clipped by a hooptie
[Chorus]
Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll—
Rollin' with your posse is the only way to go
Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll— Roll—
Rollin' with your posse is the only way to go
[Verse 4]
Runnin' outta gas, stuck in traffic
Far left lane, throwin' up much static
Input, output, carburetor full of soot
"What you want me to do, Mix?" Push, freak, push
Sputter, sputter rollin' over gutters
Cars dip low with hardcore 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' nothin' 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
[Outro]
My hooptie (Yo, bully)
It's my hooptie
- Seminar (1989)
- Baby Got Back
- Posse On Broadway
- Jump On It
- Buttermilk Biscuits (Keep on Square Dancin’)
- My Hooptie
- Put ’Em on the Glass
- Beepers
- Brown Shuga
- Take My Stash
- Don’t Call Me Da Da
- Let it Beaounce
- Chief Boot Knocka
- Ride
- Sleepin Wit My Fonk
- Nasty Dog
- What’s Real
- The Boss is Back
- Big Johnson
- Lockjaw
- I’m Your New God
- The Jack Back
- One Time’s Got No Case
- No Holds Barred
- Game Don’t Get Old