[Verse One: Big Boi]
Well itīs the M - I - crooked letter, ainīt no one better
And when Iīm on the microphone you best to wear your sweater
Cause Iīm cooler than a polar bearīs toenails
Oh hell, there he go again talkin that shit
Bend, cornerīs like I was a curve, I struck a nerve
And now you bout to see this Southern playa serve
I heard itīs not where youīre from but where you pay rent
Then I heard itīs not what you make but how much you spent
you got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, nut Iīm not worried
Cause when we step up in the party, like Iīm out-you-scurry
So go get your fuckinī 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
Itīs that same motherfucka that took them knuckles to your eye
And I try, to warn you not to test but you donīt listen
Givin the shout out to my Uncle Donnel locked up in prison
[Chorus: Andre 2x]
Now throw your hands in the air
And wave īem like you just donīt care
And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit
Then everybody say O-Yea-yer
[Verse Two: Andre]
Now, my oral demonstration be like clitoral stimulation
to the female gender, ainīt nothin better
Let me know when itīs wet enough to enter
If not Iīll wait, because the future of the world depends on
Therefore, if not the child we raise gonī 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 ainīt no lie
Iīll 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 Iīm home but Iīm not married
Carried a lot of problems around being fustrated
And now Iīm sittin at the end of the month I just made it
Like you made the B team
And like the daddyīs 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 worldīs a stage and everybodyīs 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 Iīm ready for war okay
[Chorus]
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