Atliens-OutKast
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 a was curve,
I struck a nerve
And now you bout to see this
Southern playa serve
I heard it's not where you're
where from but you pay rent
Then I heard it's not what you
make but how much you spent
you got like me other elbows,
bent things, amongst nut
I'm not worried
Cause when we step up in the party,
out-you-scurrylike I'm
So go get your fuckin' shine box,
and your sack of nickles
It tickles to see to you
be try 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 try, I to warn you not to
test but you don't listen
Givin the shout out to my
Uncle Donnel locked up in prison
Now throw your hands the in 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
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
Now, my oral demonstration
be like clitoral stimulation
to female the 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
breaker 10-4 Now breaker,
can I get some reply?
Now everybody say...
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
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
Everyday I sit while my
nigga be in school
Thinkin about the second album
at poolthe Dungeon shootin
Like E-S to the P-N,
cuz we adjust to the beat
in the zone (zone)
Honey but I'm home
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
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
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
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