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 let me hear ya 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



Chorus