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- Singer Intro
Outkast
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Atliens
Lyricist:Andre Benjamin, Organized Noize, Antwan Patton
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, corners 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 spend
You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but 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
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 Everybody let me hear you say oh 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 Everybody let me hear you say oh yea yer
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
If or if not the child we raise gon' have that nigga syndrome Or will it know to be the hard regardless of the skintone Or will it 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 I preach and don't lie I'll be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pie Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Now breaker, breaker 10-4 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 Everybody let me hear you say oh 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 Everybody let me hear you say oh yea yer
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, 'cause we adjust to the beat in the zone Honey I'm home but I'm not married
Carried a lot of problems around being frustrated 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 ATLiens 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 gots to play they 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 Everybody let me hear you say oh 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 Everybody let me hear you say oh yea yer
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