歌手:OutKast
专辑:《ATLiens》

作词 : Andre Benjamin/Antwan Patton/Erin Johnson
作曲 : Andre Benjamin/Antwan Patton/Erin Johnson
Something's gotta give!
Yeah, you know what I'm sayin?
Herndon Homes, Martel Homes, Carver Homes, Techwood
Martin Luther King, Bankhead
Undercover, over the hills and through the woods I go
Like green lights, a Southern nigga that's comin' for your 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 for your lesson
I got an ounce of dank and a couple of drinks so let's crank up a session
Like Tri-Cities High School, was pulling 'em in a broke down Rabbit
I spit a couple of words and laying em down was just a habit
Just like Smokey, choking off da pee-wee that we rolled up
Talking about the clique will get you nathaniel but swolled up
Hootie Hoo slapped you boys across the cheek with 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 rhyming
Every lyric that he spit be turning charcoals into Diamonds and Pearls
Girl, when you giving up them drawers, 'cause
I got a couple of niggas down the hall
That wanna hit it too, I'm not the type to be acting 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...
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
Everybody wanna get signed, but (I'm here to tell you)
Record companies act like pimps
Getting 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 willing to get what I deserve, my kids do have a mother
And a little house, with a dog in the backyard going "woof-woof"
Who knows what I must face when 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 niggas attempt 'cause they got other mouths to feed
Besides they own
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far, tha Southern star shines
It's some hoes in this house, damn right
I'm thinking about the way you skull me, girls be
Sucking me dry like deserts Mojave, Gotti, hotties and honeydips
Liking the way you do me, screw me and make my money flip
Shaking that ass for daddy, putting this gas off in my Cadi-llac
Back, don't ever snap, packing the gats and pimping whores
Hors d'oeuvres, swerve, hit the curb because I'm reckless
Back in the days when I was broke I'd snatch your ****ing necklace
You ol' *****-ass nigga... yeah