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Альбом Outkast


ATLiens (27.08.1996)
27.08.1996
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. . .



Navem nu, cuando sol 
Tutu nu, vondo nos nu 
Vita em, no continous non 
Nos nu ekta nos sepe ta, amen 

You can be sure 
Some will owe to get high 
you may hurt till you cry 
You may die... (you may die) 
Keep on trying (keep on trying) 
Till it's summer, in the city 

. . .



Verse One: Big Boi, Andre 

From the bottom of my lungs a nigga be blowin, spittin his game 
Comin up on ya from the South, the A-T-Liens aint changed 
Cooler than most players claim to be 

A nigga that's from the A-Town see 
The home of the Bankhead Bounce, Campbellton Road and other city streets 
Enough of the verality, fallacy, butter we speak not fiction 
Speakin of pullin yo' girl lookin at Jheri curls you bitches 
Everytime I ryhme for y'all, I'm lookin to prove a point 
kickin a freestyle every now and then 
but mostly off the joint 
See I smoke good cuz see it go good wit them flows, why 
the nigga the B-I-G like Tony Rich nobody knows why 
but me and my folks, cuz yall niggas jokes like the joker 
I'm sick of these wack ass rappers like I'm tired of hoes in chokers 

Who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 
This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs 
askin where we come from...South Post Lodge 

Chorus: 

Its Just Two Dope Boyz In A Cadillac (2X) 

Verse Two: Andre, Big Boi 

This ol sucka MC stepped up to me 
Challenged Andre to a battle and I stood there patiently 
As he spit and stumbled over cliches, so called freestylin 
Whole purpose just to make me feel low, I guess you whylin 
I say look boi, I ain't for that fuck shit; so fuck this 
Let me explain on this child style so you don't miss 
I grew up to myself not round no park bench 
just a nigga bustin flows off in apartments 

Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 
This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs 
askin where we come from...South Post slums 

Chorus 

Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre 

It goes chromes to the Fleetwoods, Coups to the Villes 
Hittin Girbauds and off these flows we havin the playa chill 
In this atmosphere this ain't no practice here we cuttin the fool now 
I'm doin ya at the house and throwin you out because I'm through now 
Don't you love the way we clamin Bankhead, stankhead 
Lookin around the SWATS for the herb that's never tainted 
Fainted when you heard the bourbon servin on the block 
And all you bitin indivuals need to check yourselfs and stop 

Yeah tight like nuts and bolts, sluts and hoes that get evicted 
I'm dealin wit Queens in my castle aint worth to risk it 
Now tricks be lookin at me like I'm they way up out the pro-jects 
Can't put you on my payroll, and no I ain't got no Rolex 
or no diamond at the exit with a sign sayin "We'll rap for food" 
My face is bawled up cuz I ain't in a happy mood 
While my partner got the squeegee and the windex 
Cuz somewhere in my life I done went wrong jus like a syntax 
Error, bring the terror to your dome like P.E. 
Prone to finish this out cuz this be a free-style 

Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion 
this side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin 
but in the middle we stay calm 

. . .



Verse One: Big Boi 

Well it's the M - I - crooked letter, ain't no one better 
And when I'm on the microphone you best to wear your sweater 
Cause I'm cooler than a polar bear's toenails 
Oh hell, there he go again talkin that shit 
Bend, corner's like I was a curve, I struck a nerve 
And now you bout to see this Southern playa serve 
I heard it's not where you're from but where you pay rent 
Then I heard it's not what you make but how much you spent 
you got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, nut I'm not worried 
Cause when we step up in the party, like I'm out-you-scurry 
So go get your fuckin' shine box, and your sack of nickles 
It tickles to see you try to be like Mr. Pickles 
Daddy fat sacks, B-I-G B-O-I 
It's that same motherfucka that took them knuckles to your eye 
And I try, to warn you not to test but you don't listen 
Givin the shout out to my Uncle Donnel locked up in prison 

Chorus: Andre (repeat 2X) 

Now throw your hands in the air 
And wave 'em like you just don't care 
And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit 
Then everybody say O-Yea-yer 

Verse Two: Andre 

Now, my oral demonstration be like clitoral stimulation 
to the female gender, ain't nothin better 
Let me know when it's wet enough to enter 
If not I'll wait, because the future of the world depends on 
Therefore, if not the child we raise gon' have that nigga syndrome 
Or will it know to be the hard regardless of the skintone 
I really feel that if we tune it, it just might get picked on 
Or will it give a fuck about what others say and get gone 
The alienators cause we different keep your hands to the sky 
Like Sounds of Blackness when I practice what a preach ain't no lie 
I'll be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pie 
Now breaker, breaker 10-4 can I get some reply? 
Now everybody say... 

Chorus 

Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre 

Everyday I sit while my nigga be in school 
Thinkin about the second album at the Dungeon shootin pool 
Like E-S to the P-N, cuz we adjust to the beat in the zone (zone) 
Honey I'm home but I'm not married 
Carried a lot of problems around being fustrated 
And now I'm sittin at the end of the month I just made it 
Like you made the B team 
And like the daddy's wife you makin the coffee 
You heard the A-T-L-iens 
So back the hell up off me 

Softly as if I played piano in the dark 
Found a way to channel my anger not to embark 
The world's a stage and everybody's got to play their part 
God works in mysterious ways so when he starts 
the job of speakin through us we be so sincere with this here 
No drugs or alcohol so I can get the signal clear as day 
Put my glock away I got a stronger weapon 
that never runs out of ammunition so I'm ready for war okay 


. . .



Intro: Big Boi 

Uhh 
As I sit in my b-boy stance 
With flip-flops and socks, and sweatpants 
We finna enhance your brain, check it out 

Verse One: Big Boi, Andre 

Once upon a time not long ago 
When the playa from the Pointe didn't have no flow 
A nigga hit me for my tennis shoes, walkin to the sto' 
Caught a nigga slippin, but now I lay it to the flo' 
just like carbon, cuz I got the heat in my rhythm 
Momma nay not, never braggin just to stay knot 
Even when I was a younger lad I learned my lesson 
Never talked to strangers in the trap and answered questions 

The Pope and his folks got us under a scope 
But for unknown reasons cuz we don't sell dope 
That you distribute, we don't contribute, to your clandestine 
activity, my soliloquoy, may be hard for some to swallow 
But so is cod liver oil 
You went behind my back like Bluto when he cut up Olive Oyl 
Two things I hate lies and thieves they make my blood boil 
Boa constricted, on my soul that they call 

Chorus: Andre 

Touched by the wheelz of steel... 
Now show me how you feel... 
Touched by the wheelz of steel... 
Now show me how you feel... 

Verse Two: Big Boi, Andre 

It took your momma nine months to make it 
But it only took a nigga thirty minutes to take it 
Cut that kronk clean up I did, but I did so not safely 
Don't want no AIDS, *clapping* no claps, or no rabies 

Yo, we take no shit, like arms stuffed up commodes 
Gotta collect call, they done locked up my folks 
Low blow, hit me in the left ventricle 
We won't be able to ride out till two thousand fo' 

But not for long cuz we got a better sack to serve 
Tryin to take you other people for your rims at the curb 
Fore you swerve and bust ya forehead, go head, go head 
More head for me, while you ride to the beat 

Drop, like Tears, like For Fears, you know 
Shout Shout let it all out, just for my peers 
And pupils who feel like it's time to unwind 
Like December 31st, on nineteen-ninety-nine 

Chorus 

Verse Three: Andre 

Okay, like this, yeah yeah 
One time for my boy doing King shit 
Two times for Legit and it don't quit 
Three times for my folks in the drop top 
Four times OutKast and it don't stop 
One time for my cuz doing Queen thangs 
Dead fresh to the teeth eatin chicken wings 
Three times for my guhls in the beauty shop 
Four times OutKast and it don't stop 


. . .



Verse One: Andre 

Yeah Oh yes I love her like Egyptian, want a description, my royal highness So
many plusses when I bust that there can't be no minus Went from yellin crickets
and crows, bitches and hoes to queen thangs Over the years I been up on my toes
and yes I seen thangs like Kilroy, chill boi because them folks might think you
soft talkin like that, man fuck them niggaz I'm goin off and comin right back,
like boomerangs when you throw em With these old ghetto poems, Bankhead is
better for em When they can let they throw em, down from hitchikin and bitin
niggaz until the temple they call the body, now everybody got it Had it, talked
about it amongst they friends Comin around my crew lookin Jazzy, wanna pretend
like you Ms. Goodie, Four-Shoes, even Bo knew, that you got caught like
accupuncture patients while our nation is a boat Straight sinkin, I hate thinkin
that these the future mommas of our chillun, they fuckin a different nigga every
time they get the feelin to, I'm willin to go the extra kilo-meter just to see
my senorita get her pillow on the side of my bed where no good ever stay House
and doctor was the games we used to play but now it's real Jazzy Belle... 

Verse Two: Big Boi 

See what if you was a playa real playa not no slouch Havin the very best of life
lots of steak and Perignon Smokin an ounce of weed yeah every single day was
personal FreakNik Freakin these hoes in Polo clothes life as you conceived it
but your conception, deception, lookin into your watch I see you weapon and it's
depressin, they're diggin up in your thighs leavin deposits keep your closets
open not your boots and drawers Hopin to get you sprung like bell-bottoms,
steadily callin me Antwan cause you thinkin that you my lady bitch don't play me
cause you're chanky I wanted to hit that ass but me and the Goodie we got danky
So thank thee, you runnin that Southerplayalistic game You was the only one to
blame, a nigga don't even know yo' name it's a shame, you crackin em up and
fuckin a nigga like Tupac up I'm leavin these foes to be the flowers and wake
don't get me see I gotta be feedin my daughter, teach her to be that Natural
Woman Cause you'll be Waiting to Exhale while you other hoes be Dumb and Dumber,
yeah you know what I'm sayin? 

Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi 

One two, yessss, ummkay, check this out right here now See me ain't no good, in
the black on black ‘Llac no star Windows are tinted so that no one knows who us
are Talk bad about her nigga guaranteed to snap like bra Strap stickin together
like grandma and grandpa-pa In this dog eat dog world, kitty cats be scratchin
on my furry coat to curl, up with me and my bowl of kibbles and bits I want to
earl, cause most of the girls that we was likin in high school, now they dykein
*laughin* Havin no mercy for the disrespect-ful ones, some be hangin around the
crew lookin for funds, dumb deaf and fine, they be, askin me all about mine How
she doin how she be, I know she's sippin that wine behind my back they skwak
like vultures Off and On like Trendz of Cultures baby hey he, fakin it like
these sculptured, nails But they can go to hell and lay with Lucifer Cause they

. . .



Verse One: Andre 

One for the money yes uhh two for the show 
A couple of years ago on Headland and Delowe 
Was the start of somethin good 
Where me and my nigga rodes the MARTA, through the hood 
Just tryin ta find that hookup 
Now everyday we look up at the ceiling 
Watchin ceiling fans go around tryin ta catch that feelin 
off instrumental, had my pencil, and plus my paper 
We caught the 86 Lithonia headed to Decatur 
Writing rhymes tryin ta find our spot off in that light 
Light off in that spot, known that we could rock 
Doin the hole in the wall clubs, this shit here must stop 
Like freeze, we makin the crowd move but we not makin no G's 
And that's a nono 

Verse Two: Big Boi 

Yeah, uhh, check it 
Ahh one two, ahh one two doe, niggaz 
in the Cadillac they call us went from Player's Ball to ballers 
Puttin the South up on the map was like Little Rock to bangin 
Niggaz say motherfuck that playin, they payin 
We stay in layin vo-cals, locals done made it with them big boys 
up in dis industry, Outkast yea dem niggaz they makin big noise 
Over a million sold to this day, niggaz they take it lightly 
Ninety-six gon be that year that all y'all playa haters can bite me 
...around this bitch 

Chorus: repeat 2X 

Me and you, your momma and your cousin too 
Rollin down the strip on vogues 
Comin up slammin Cadillac doz (doors) 

Verse Three: Big Boi 

Back in the day when I was younger, hunger 
Lookin to fill me belly with that Rally's, bullshit, pull shit 
off like it was supposed to be pulled 
Full as a tick I was, stoned like white boys 
Smokin them white golds before them blunts got krunk, chunky asses 
passes gettin thrown like Hail Mary's and they lookin like Halle Berry 
So so fine, intertwined, but we ain't sippin wine 
We's just chillin, I'm the rabid villain, and I'm so high 
Smokin freely, me Lil B, Greet, Mon and Shug 
And my little brother James, thangs changed in the hood 
where I live at, them rats know, mama I want to sing but 
Mama I want to trick, and mama I'm suckin dick, now 
We movin on up in da world like elevators 
Me and the crew we pimps like eighty-two 
Me and you like Tony Toni Tone 
Like this Eastpointe and we gone 

Chorus 

Verse Four: Andre 

Got stopped at the mall the other day 
Heard a call from the other way 
that I just came from, some nigga was sayin somethin 
talkin bout "Hey man, you remember me from school?" smoke some 
Naw not really but he kept smilin like a clown 
facial expression lookin silly 
And he kept askin me, what kind of car you drive, I know you paid 
I know y'all got buku of hoes from all them songs that y'all done made 
And I replied that I had been goin through tha same thing that he had 
True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me 
to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check 
If you don't move yo' foot then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck 
Yes we done come a long way like them Slim ass cigarettes 
from Virginia, this ain't gon stop so we just gonna continue 


. . .



Something's gotta give! 

Yeah, you know what I'm sayin? Uhh 
Herring homes, unh, martel homes, carver homes, tekwood 
Martin luther king, bankhead 

Verse One: Big Boi 

Under-cover, over da hills and thru tha woods I go 
Like green lights, a southern nigga that's comin fo' yo' throat 
But not no guillotine see, we be them southern playas 
Remember the football socks, aerobic Reeboks and Decaturs, now 
You up to par and ready fo yo lesson 
I got an ounce of dank and a couple of drinks so let's crank up a session 
Like Tri-City high school, was pullin em in a broke down Rabbit 
I spit a couple of words and layin em down was just a habit 
Just like smokey, choking off da pee-wee that we rolled up 
Talkin about the click will get you laid down hella swoled up 
Hootie hoo slapped ya boyz across the cheek wit Isotoners 
And went to tell yo momma and yo pop that you was a goner 
Tell em Big Boi did it; I swear that nigga be rhymin 
Every lyric that he spit be turnin charcoals into Diamonds and Pearls 
Girl when you givin up them draws, cause 
I got a couple of niggaz down the hall 
That wanna hit it too, I'm not the type to be actin selfish 
Set it out and let it out and I'll be right back just like Elvis 
Cause the postman rings twice... 
Hey Mr. Postman.... 

Chorus: repeat 2X 

power, power, I come gimme some 
tha deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL 
put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car 
let's travel far, tha southern star shines 

Verse Two: Dre 

Everybody wanna get signed, but (here to tell you) 
record companies act like pimps 
Gettin paid off what we made when we the ones that's fly like blimps 
But ain't no Goodyear, I tell it like it is so I'm like look here 
Just willin to get what I deserve my kids to have a mother 
and a little house, with a dog in the backyard goin "woof-woof" 
Who knows what I'ma say soon's I leave this recording booth 
Poof, back in the real world where birds fly 
From Miami by way of Cuba to whoever wants to get that high 
There's clouds of clowns, seas of G's 
Pro-jects, packed with playas meditating on their knees 
Just to make them ends meet, like ground beef, you won't believe 
The shit that niggaz attempt cause they got other mouths to feed 
besides they own 

Chorus 

Verse Three: Big Boi 

There's some hoes in this house, damn right 
I'm thinkin about the way you skull me, guzz me 
Suckin me dry like deserts Mojave, Gotti, hotties and honeydips 
Likin the way you do me, screw me it make my money flip 
Shakin that ass for daddy puttin this gas off in my Cadi-llac 
Back, don't ever snap, packin the gats and pimpin whores 
Hors d'oevres, swerve, hit the curb because I'm reckless 
Back in the days when I was broke I'd snatch your fuckin necklace 

. . .



I came into this world high as a bird 
From second hand cocain powder 
i know it sounds absurd 
I never tooted but its in my veins 
While the rest of the country bungies off bridges 
Without no snap back 
and bitches they say they need that 
To shake they fannies in the ass clubs 
they go the other route 
turn each other out 
burn each other out 
where a bonified nigga like me 
can't even get no back rub these days 
ain't that bleak on they part 
but let me hold it down 
cause they shut you down 
when you speak from your heart 
now that's hard 
while we rantin and ravin bout gats 
nigga they made them gats 
they got some shit that'll blow out our backs 
from where they stay at 

Chorus: 

Ooooh, I fear the battle's just begun 
Ooooh, though we're here someday we will be gone 
so i'm hopin, wishin, prayin 
to keep my faith in you, in you 

(yo, yo, yo in background) 

I'm fascinated by the way yo 
nipples peak at me through yo blouse 
freaky me, freaky you 
can't help but be aroused 
'scuse me lord less for thinkin 
but that's the way we was brought up 
sneakin to watch playboy at night 
we all must be caught up in worldly ways 
Chemistry between boys and girls 
is alot like when we went to the woods 
and laid with the squirrels 
durin P.E., we'd be 
exploring each others privates 
hunchin with all our clothes on 
until we felt excited then, aaaah 
oh now its on from here on out 
put yo hands in the atmosphere 
if you know what i'm talkin bout 
now if two hearts done walk on out 
and i see you on the next song 
they call it horny 
Because its devilish 
now see we dead wrong 

Chorus 

People don't know the stress i'm dealing with day to day 
Speakin about the feeling i'm possessing for Rene 
Mopin around and wondering where she stay 
saw her last that she lay 
give it another day i say 
but the lord he taketh away 
now give it back lawd 
cause that's like backboards without the rims 
me and my auntie was tight like southwest 
before the pinks moved in 
like the niggas that owned the ligour store 
crack cocaine, pimps and whores 
livin up on this earth 
before a nigga like daddy was born 
but they makin a scene 
that my music and crime are a team 
but i'm speakin the truth not dreams 
so what in the fuck they mean 
my lyrics ain't clean 


. . .



Verse One: Big Boi 

In the zone like Keyser Soze, always the Usual Suspect 
No check, all I got in this game is my respect 
and Southern pride I be, checkin my fuckin head 
Scared, lookin up in your face, boi I see dead 
If you test like SAT, then I guess that we may be, enemies 
In the P's freestyles be freebies 
I be that wrong nigga to fuck with, wouldn't I 
Wouldn't I be the wrong one to try, never eating chicken thighs 
Only the twenty piece mojo, flow zone like Flo Jo 
I wanted to figure out, just how low could yo' hoe go 
The beat hit like Beat Street, Krush Groove and Breakin 
Never bakin, rebukin Satan, we had you waitin 
For the Second Coming funny how time flies when you're rhymin 
La-Fa-Ce records, I think they got that perfect timin 
to be doper than Sadaam believe the Nation of Islam 
Fuck the police and the dogs, sniffin that dope up out your car 
I think they overstep they boundaries 
O.J., not guilty, that's how they found he 

Verse Two: Andre 

I felt the pressure like sun shinin, while raining at the same time 
I kept on rhymin, not complainin 
Storm bringing cats and dogs my catalog be the size of golf balls 
Throw up your Daisy Dukes I'm Hazzard-ous to all you Boss Hoggs 
And Roscoe P. Col' people, who could boost my locomotive 
But enough of that everyone can rap unless they ain't supposed ta 
I use my gift of gab to boast and brag in every rhyme I 
compose won't y'all get sick of that, cause I know I do when I hear those 
Flows that ain't hip-hop, you find that shit in the gift shop 
But to each his own, my speech is gon', keep that shit up outta my zone 
Long as you happy then I'm happy 
Even if you just hate my fuckin guts go 'head and dap me 
Cause I'm gon' dap you anyway and then go home and pray for yo' ass later 
Cause we might need you in this war I'm wailin on you traitors 

. . .



Verse 1: 

Revolutionary, scary 
Thought provoking, spoken, 
Words of a chain I don't feel but I see, 
visions from me 
at twenty three making us free in my community 
one day is what I live for, 
ain't thinking about no hope no more 
I got my boots I kick it till I get with 
Adapt and overcome, oh hum hum 
Go get my gun, load up for fun, and put down with the frown 
What goes round comes round from M.L.K. to cascade 
I know its through them plenty figures 
cocaine dealers walk the wrong side 
up in they rides, 
looking cleaner then I seen them the last time 
Then selling dimes, now its quarter keys, stacking G's 
In the South Indies 
my nigga them folks riding bicycles among vehicles 
off in the hood 
Knowing each and every nigger sellin', but can you blame 
the fact the only way a brother can survive the game 
the block hard to get by the dope dealing, fatal killings 
in fair times so writing rhymes 
it ain't just the police 
we kill each other just lost another brother 
fast living will get you took, 
thinking it can't happen to you and then it do 
off crooked schemes its just a dream 
floating face down in the mainstream 

Chorus: 

Think it is when it ain't all peaches and cream 
that's why some are found floating face down in the main stream 

Verse 2: 

They swan divin' 
fit they name be thrashing an album 
go-kart rushin' to finish their album then you find them 
lost, dog paddling, back stroking, what done happened? 
be rhymin' catching the day when the recipe calls for black and 
wrong ingredients, 
maybe too much herbs and spices, 
maybe you got hungry for the wrong dish 
southern greens and this entice them how them joke the same 
so I'm gonna sing just like them to get where they at 
I'll even break my by back to touch their rim if I gotta 
My alta mater be that I follow 
I bite whatever that's looking tasty, water it down then swallow 
I hope you vomit, won't call no names cause that's not my job 
it just applies to whom it may concern you know who you are 
but if you don't you never will, you just receive the steel 
but then it might get ugly cause trust me niggas do feel 
the way that I felt when I wrote this, but we must stay in focus 
we kings and queens up in this thing, get rid of all them jokers 
face down, face down, face down 

(Chorus) 

Verse 3: 

I let you stay in my crib, now you know where I live 
when you was hungry, fed you a hot meal, look at the hand you deal 
me crudball business giving niggers inches so here, take a foot 
luck only counts in rabbit's feet and horseshoes, 
experience is sometimes the best teacher until we get our own plate 
I hope you don't mind me eating off of yours, 
process momma moping like jerry 
meanwhile, fairies of the street tinkling pixie dust over greenery 
never to obtain another level of con-science 
only to test, to poke and see 
why laying here, they scheme over one another mouth to feed 
??? with a decision to make, now words shake your destiny 
but a missle will take it all the way just as quick as you can say 
I wish I never did what I did now face this bid 
it was the company you kept, the many places you slept 
when you shouldn't have, geeking like a rat, jumping like a trap 
contributing to sin and your nigga bitch in the court showing paper thin 
got you niggers where they want you again, 
floating face down in the mainstream 
thats why, thats why, thats why 

(Chorus) 

Verse 4: 

Everybody's a player, rubbin them kangols on their head 
thinking its all about your clothes, nigger its all about your self 
the way you feel about your life, the times that you done shared with 
your friends and family, up and down like hoes give head 
to dicks oh, six, serving them in the mix, but ain't no mystery 
you know the history about this clique bitch 
oh, what, you want me to call you slut? 
then why you fucking all them niggers letting them all up in your guts 
but see that AIDS I'm afraid that's why I play the quiet role 
I lay in the cut, every month thinking I'll let that fire roll 
like chimneys, and smoke signals, maybe peace pipes even 
my partners call me Big Boi and my first name is not Steven 
in the mainstream, home team banging them with these hits 
in the mix flowing like some motherfucking swordfish 


. . .


featuring Cool Breeze & Big Gipp

Verse One: Cool Breeze 

I call da crib they say "Breeze you ain't know?" 
I say "What?" "Big Time got popped in his Benzo!" 
I said "Damn man, I'm riding in his Lexus 
I'm bout to dump this nigga's shit in New Dimensions 
Get to the crib so I can call Big Slate up 
And tell em da money man done slipped and got his throat cut 
And everything that we took from the warehouse 
I heard somebody talkin 'bout it at the White House 
Man I thought you said that this job was for me and you 
I ain't know that Bill Clampett wanted some too 
You tell his folks that I'm sorry bout that Lexus 
I'm 'bout to dip and see my sister up in... naaah! 
Can't even tell you where I put my extra playa card 
Cause them Red Dog police know we homeboys 
Just tell everybody who us a dime 
It's the Great Hoe Round Up Yo' Money time 
I got to HAVE MINE, then I'm OUTTA HERE 
Take a loss, come back up just like Coco Grier 
Ain't got to worry bout yo' potnah gettin caught like a lame 
It won't be over til that big girl from Decatur sang" 

(It won't be over till that big girl from Decatur sang! 
East Pointe police don't know a damn thang...) 

Verse Two: Big Boi 

Yeah, it won't be over 
Check this out 
Can you see what I be hearin talkin to spirits when I sleep 
Peep this out real quick Slick, we gets on this beat and speak 
about that pimp shit, that walk with dat limp shit, that hemp shit 
Lookin up in your face I see a coward and a dimwit 
Lookin to run up in my private home just like you was the folks 
Servin a warrant to a baby daddy, who do they come to quote? 
On a Tuesday, April Fool's Day, don't get caught slippin 
Leavin the keys off in the ignition, makin me guilty by suspicion 
Penny pinchers tryin to stack for ninety-six 
Buyin another Fleetwood, Diamond took it, so know we's in the mix 
I need to take my ass to the crib and drop the baby off 
Cause them niggaz at the corner sto' been lookin at me for too long 
Starin like accidents on highways, high days are better than sober ones 
Don't be biased, but I know it has to come 
So I put two in the sky to let them know I'm babysittin 
Y'all don't know nothin bout Big Boi cause that nigga steady dippin 
It ain't over (why that, why that) till the bitch open her mouth up 
and sang... 

Verse Three: Big Gipp 

Took me a long time to get here 
Long time man 
I'm talkin about, years, and years 
Riding past funeral fields holdin bodies of my peers 
If you don't educate yourself 
Now how the fuck you gonna understand how you posed to get paid? 
Niggaz walk around get with shade tree ass ways 
Fuck a fade, let my hair drag 
Back and forth like a see-saw 
Jumpin Lily, to lilypad dad 
Lookin to get my Goodie feel 
I'm broke in like some old men 
Who'd stop dem or would stop 
I'm droppin lines for the big plot 
Sixteen is when I started to dream 
It's ninety-six I'm in your face 
Can you hear that bitch scream? 


. . .



[Dre] 
Me and everything around me, is unstable like Chernobyl 
Ready to go at any moment, jumpin like a pogo stick 
I never lived up to my expectations, so I accept the patience 
Expect the worse but now I'm pacin 
Back and forth, inside, I'm melting like water on wicked bitches 
A monster truck done came and ran over my picket fences 
I had the best of life in my clinches but monkey wrenches was thrown 
Like chairs kings sit on, my prayers seem to long 
I fall asleep before the endin, don't even get to say Amen 
I hope He understand I be on bended knees 
At times, I think I'm crazy, so I say forget it 
Or maybe it's the devil infiltrating and like Riddick...Bowe 
I've been fighting this since them fetus days 
I count from one to twenty, when I'm through, repeat the phrase 
It's just a phase, it's gon all pass, but that gets old too 
I'm weakening like a deacon doin dirt 
What am I supposed to do? 

chorus Dre: 
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh uh, uh uh uh uh uh (Planets and stars) 
Uh uh uh uh uh, uh uh uh uh uh uh (Earth, Jupiter, Mars) 
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh uh, uh uh uh uh uh (Hoes, clothes, cars) 
Uh uh uh uh uh, uh uh uh uh uh uh (It's who you are) 

[Big Boi] 
See, from bedknobs to broomsticks, we lookin to start some new shit 
I'm writin this rhyme in faith, so when you hear it, hope you true it 
My nigga, you do it like swooshes, the lyrical cleanse and new zits 
Wipin away your germs up under your cranium with juices 
See Mo goes on, my slick flow flows on 
Straight from west Savannah, Georgia, but the S.W.A.T.S. is my home 
Never go wrong cuz the click is tighter than gnat ass and that bad 
Mosquito, now we goes, I'm proud of you peoples 
For sellin your cracker sacks, I'm glad I'm white not Black 
Shit, on the real, that's how them whiteys really act 
When your back was turned, them slackers learned and now we fallin apart 
You lookin me in my eye, but you ain't feelin me in your heart 
Yes, yes Lord, give me the power within the final hour 
These niggaz, they leavin me stranded like Rapunzel in the tower 
Now or never, let's stick together and overcome 
But they don't feel like marchin, cuz they shoes is overrun 
Ain't that a bitch 

chorus 

Planets and stars 
Earth, Jupiter, Mars 
Hoes, clothes, cars 
It's who you are 

chorus 

Planets and stars 
Earth, Jupiter, Mars 
Hoes, clothes, cars 

. . .



Big Boi: 

Peep what I say 
Everyday--the sun sets just like clockwork 
Put the glock to work 
And puttin the body to standstlls 
Man it kills me 
Taking that life is like taking a shit 
Hit or miss--niggas are playing God 
Trying to rob and steal 
That's why ya gotta guard ya grill 
Like a barbecue--cause them harming you 
Are just like honeybees swarming you 
Vocally arming you was my responsibility 
It's killing me--thinking that all these niggas 
See they fly shit--thinking they steven segall an 
Balling--falling to the wayside when ya try to call 
I've fallen--when we was little nappy headed niggas in the projects 
But now they carjacks, wait on income tax and unsafe sex 
They get the tecs to flex--like solo for tha lo-lo 
Smoke same thing no-no--not this time 
Niggas around my way can rhyme 
So fuck that country shit--we done a bunch of shit 
And yes ya heard of this--out of this world like E.T. 
Coming across ya T.V. 
Extraterrestrial--straight from ATL. 

(Know what I'm saying--Like that--Yeah) 

Chorus: 

Out of this world 
Are you alien? 
(repeat 3x) 

Out of this world....... 

Andre: 

Right now I'm smiling 
Taking advantage of this moment 
Cause there might not be another soon 
Holding on to memories like roller coaster handle bars 
tightly cause I'm slightly off my rocker--But to you 
I may appear to be your average joe 
But little do you know 
that even joe got problems that he gots to joust with 
Floating in this game of life 
Despite how out of place you may feel 
In this race oh you just can't quit 
Ain't that a bitch--that being heat 
I'm on the beat like cops 
Only cultivate the stable dirt when I skeet my drops 
No concentrating knocking other niggas out the box 
Why?--Cause in a sense 
See we all be kind of fly 
Just can't be scared to spread your wings 
Head to better things 
Maybe the mockingbird and nightengale 
they want to sing--keeping this thing alive 
To the table's what we bring 
We like hailstorms and blizzards in the middle of the spring 
Extraterrestrial 

(Out of this world--Things like that--Yo) 


. . .



Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold 
Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense 
that we get em confused 
The resident evil specialize in misconstruing 
We wanna be at a presidential level -- what are we doing? 
Foolin ourself, clownin ourself, playin ourself 
By not bein ourself 
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat 
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get our meat 
While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season 
look at the picture that's painted 
Tainted as the mind who's blinded to the point 
where Sodomites get all the rights 
We fall for fights with fisticuffs 
Get pissed enough to miss the bus 
It disgusts me to see my folks run up on 
I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations 
And recognize this mind on the reality of horror 
known as mankind 
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen 
A righteous number of righteous men 
Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end 
The Devil say the end is the beginning 
They teach that we were the product of incest 
Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics 
Stand with us and don't look back upon it 
Just face this mindstate 
Otherwise Babylon... 

(My memories of yesterday...) 

cut and scratched: "Ninety-six gonna be that year..." 

Verse One: Andre 

I bet you never heard of a playa with no game 
Told the truth to get what I want but shot it with no shame 
Take this music dead serious while others entertain 
I see they makin they paper so I guess I can't complain... or can I? 
I feel they disrespectin the whole thang 
Them hooks like sellin dope to black folks 
And I choke when the food they serve ain't tastin right 
My stomach can't digest it even when I bless it 
I'm confessin one mo' lesson from the South we in the house tonight 
Now hootie who wants to oppose? Suppose 
We rolls through Headland and Delowe 
where me and my niggaz surpassed the flow 
And got down for ours like hind catchers 
My mind catches flashbacks to the black past 
while my close niggaz laugh at 
The Southern slang, figure ways and mojo chicken wangs 
I grew up on booty shake we did not know no better thang 
So go 'head and, diss it, while real hop-hippers listen 
Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your potnah 
Gather your thoughts 

Musical Interlude: Debra Killings 

(Something's gotta change 
Songs of laughter and happiness comes from teardrops to rain 
When daring despair, fortune may lead in my day 
And slight breezes of longing finally move my way 
Like memories of yesterday...) 

Verse Two: Big Boi 

Uhh, born Antwan Patton but my potnahs they call me Big Boi 
It's the nigga the B-I-G, be speakin the truth not talkin that shit boi 
I'm thinkin of checkin my traps and bustin my raps and throwin them craps 
Seven-eleven is no convenience, you pumpin your gas, they're watchin yo' back 
For the robbin crew, thinkin they robbin you, you must be cautious 
To stand up on yo' game and pimpin these crows you must be flawless 
Like Mortal Kombat, but fuckin these wombats got you dizzy 
My nigga you know of I wanna be playin but runnin up on me like you miss me 
You catchin the wrong vibe, packin yo' shit and rollin yo' eyes back 
Flexin up on the corner tossin your dice and rollin your Cadillac 
But man it seems I'm reachin out and touchin the wrong nigga 
Don't expect me to be pimpin get your index off the trigger 
As we bust, us, we leavin em in the dust 
So keep that clean up out of your nose I said my piece and then I hush 
As the candidate keeps flippin... niggaz dippin... 

Musical Interlude 

Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi 

I really be love it we are gathered to life 
So pissed to lather we come clean 
Some issues need to be addressed like envelopes I mean 
Oh like Liberty Bells yes them bullets keep on rangin 
On fire like the Georgia mass choir we keep on sangin 
Bringin our folks closer together cause they severed us from the get green 
Light and we ain't gon' stop until we hit the big screen 
Psych because no one is free when others are oppressed 
So, we hit the stage and then we fly back to our nest 
Growing old 

Like some eagles, people don't understand 
Just like their parents don't be carin 
I'm speakin about you playin with that phony stuff you sharin 
in your raps Mercedes Benz and all your riches 
Thinkin you got it, but get it get it, but you ain't pimpin no bitches 
Cause you flaw, in, fallin like leaves into driveways 
Isn't it lovely smokin good and sloppy head on highways 
Friday's are tight but Saturday just makes it old 
When tonight's are hot warm enough to feed your soul 
Growing old 

Musical Interlude 2X 
("96 gonna be that year...") 

(Like memories of yesterday...) 

*voice of Andre fades in* 
see all them leaves must fall down, growin old 

Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab 
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab 
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown 
Autumn caught em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin old 

. . .



Verse One: Andre 

One for the money yes uhh two for the show 
A couple of years ago on Headland and Delowe 
Was the start of somethin good 
Where me and my nigga rodes the MARTA, through the hood 
Just tryin ta find that hookup 
Now everyday we look up at the ceiling 
Watchin ceiling fans go around tryin ta catch that feelin 
off instrumental, had my pencil, and plus my paper 
We caught the 86 Lithonia headed to Decatur 
Writing rhymes tryin ta find our spot off in that light 
Light off in that spot, known that we could rock 
Doin the hole in the wall clubs, this shit here must stop 
Like freeze, we makin the crowd move but we not makin no G's 
And that's a nono 

Verse Two: Big Boi 

Yeah, uhh, check it 
Ahh one two, ahh one two doe, niggaz 
in the Cadillac they call us went from Player's Ball to ballers 
Puttin the South up on the map was like Little Rock to bangin 
Niggaz say motherfuck that playin, they payin 
We stay in layin vo-cals, locals done made it with them big boys 
up in dis industry, Outkast yea dem niggaz they makin big noise 
Over a million sold to this day, niggaz they take it lightly 
Ninety-six gon be that year that all y'all playa haters can bite me 
...around this bitch 

Chorus: repeat 2X 

Me and you, your momma and your cousin too 
Rollin down the strip on vogues 
Comin up slammin Cadillac doz (doors) 

Verse Three: Big Boi 

Back in the day when I was younger, hunger 
Lookin to fill me belly with that Rally's, bullshit, pull shit 
off like it was supposed to be pulled 
Full as a tick I was, stoned like white boys 
Smokin them white golds before them blunts got krunk, chunky asses 
passes gettin thrown like Hail Mary's and they lookin like Halle Berry 
So so fine, intertwined, but we ain't sippin wine 
We's just chillin, I'm the rabid villain, and I'm so high 
Smokin freely, me Lil B, Greet, Mon and Shug 
And my little brother James, thangs changed in the hood 
where I live at, them rats know, mama I want to sing but 
Mama I want to trick, and mama I'm suckin dick, now 
We movin on up in da world like elevators 
Me and the crew we pimps like eighty-two 
Me and you like Tony Toni Tone 
Like this Eastpointe and we gone 

Chorus 

Verse Four: Andre 

Got stopped at the mall the other day 
Heard a call from the other way 
that I just came from, some nigga was sayin somethin 
talkin bout "Hey man, you remember me from school?" smoke some 
Naw not really but he kept smilin like a clown 
facial expression lookin silly 
And he kept askin me, what kind of car you drive, I know you paid 
I know y'all got buku of hoes from all them songs that y'all done made 
And I replied that I had been goin through tha same thing that he had 
True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me 
to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check 
If you don't move yo' foot then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck 
Yes we done come a long way like them Slim ass cigarettes 
from Virginia, this ain't gon stop so we just gonna continue 


. . .


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