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Outkast
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B.O.B.
Lyricist:Andre Benjamin, Antwan Patton, David Sheats
1,2 1,2,3, yeah
Inslumnational underground, thunder pounds When I stomp the ground Like a million elephants or Silver Back Orangutans, you can't stop the train
Who wants some? Don't come unprepared I'll be there but when I leave there Better be a household name The weatherman tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we sittin' in a drop top soakin' wet In a silk suit tryin' not to sweat Hittin' somersaults without the net But this'll be the year that we won't forget
1999 Anno Domini Anythin' goes, be what you wanna be Long as you know consequences Are given for living
The fence is too high to jump in jail Too low to dig, I might just touch Hell Get a life now, they on sale Then I might cast you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale an' some arm an' hammer Soul gold grill, an' a baby, mamma Black Cadillac an' a pack of Pampers Stack of questions with no answers
Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS Make a nigga want to stay on tour for days Get back home, thangs are wrong Well not really, it was bad all along
Before your left, adds up to a ball of power Thoughts at a thousand miles per hour Hello, ghetto, let your brain breathe Believe there's always mo', oww
Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad Don't even bang unless you plan to hit somethin' Bombs over Baghdad
Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad Don't even bang unless you plan to hit somethin' Bombs over Baghdad
Uno, dos, tres, it's on Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone? Like that there boy an' we still stay street Big things happen every time we meet
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Like a track team, crack fiend, dyin' to geek Outkast bumpin' up an' down the street Slant back Cadillac, about five niggaz deep Seventy-five MC's free stylin' to the beat
'Cause we get crunk, stay drunk at the club Should've bought an ounce, but you copped a dub Should've held back, but you threw the punch Supposed 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 years, Jordan Never turned my back on my kids, for them
Should've hit it, quit it, rag 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, Planet Stankonia's on ya Movin' like Floyd, comin' straight to Florida
Lock all your windows then block the corridors Pullin' off my belt 'cause a whippings in order I'd like a three-piece fish before I cut your daughter Yo quiero taco bell, then I hit the border
Piti pat rappers tryin' to get the five I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive When you come to a town, boy, you better not hide 'Cause the dungeon family gon' ride, ha
Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad Don't even bang unless you plan to hit somethin' Bombs over Baghdad
Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad Don't even bang unless you plan to hit somethin' Bombs over Baghdad, yeah
Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah
Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top
Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival ...
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