1, 2.. 1, 2, 3; yeah!
In-slum-national, underground
Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!)
Like a million elephants and silverback orangutans
You cant stop a train
Who want some? Dont come un-pre-pared
Ill be there, but when I leave there
Better be a household name
Weather man tellin us it aint gon rain
So now we sittin in a drop-top, soakin wet
In a silk suit, tryin not to sweat
Hits somersaults without the net
But thisll be the year that we wont forget
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Anno Domini anything goes, be whatchu wanna be
Long as you know consequences, to give and for livin
The fence is too high to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell
HOT! Get a life, now they on sale
Then I might cast you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, soul gold grill and some baby mama
Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers
Stack of question with no answers
Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS
Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days
Get back home, things are wrong
Well not really it was bad all along
before he left adds up, to a ball of power
Thoughts at a thousands miles per hour
Hello, ghetto, let your brain breathe,
believe theres always more, ahhhhh!
Dont pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Dont even bang unless you plan to hit something
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah! Uhh-huh
Uno, dos, tres, its on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?
Like that there boy and we still stay street
Big things happen every time we meet
Like a track team, crack fiend, dyin to geek
Outkast bumpin up and down the street
Slant back, Cadillac, bout five nigga deep
Seventy-five MCs freestylin to the beat
Cause we get drunk, stay drunk, at the club
Should have bought an ounce, but you copped a dub
Should have held back, but you throwed the punch
Spose to meet your girl but you packed a lunch
No D to-the U to-the G for you
Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo
Got a little baby girl four year, Jordan
Never turn my back on my kids for them
Should have hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)
Before you RE up, get a laptop
Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals
Make a fat diamond out of dusty coals
Record number four, but we on the road
Hold up, slow up, stop, control
Like Janet, Planets, Stankonia is on ya
A movin like Floyd commin straight to Florida
Lock all your windows then block the corridors
Pullin off on bell cause a whippins in order
I like a three piece fish before I cut your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border
Pity pap rappers tryin to get the five
Im a microphone fiend tryin to stay alive
When you come to ATL boi you better not hide
cause the Dungeon Family gon ride, hah!
Dont pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Dont even bang unless you plan to hit something
Bombs over Baghdad!
Yeah! Uhh-huh
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
B-I-G, B-O-I
An-An-Andre
To the T-O-P
Bob your head. Rag top.
(1, 2.. 1, 2, 3, 4) (Gimme some)
Power music. Electric revival.
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