Outkast
Atliens
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2.87 МБ
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192 кбит/c
Тривалість
2:05
92
| Додана 2 серпня 2011 користувачем N1 |
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Текст пісні Atliens
Verse One: Big Boi
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 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
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 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
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