Karaoké ATLiens OutKast

Yeah uh

East Point, smokes some dank

College Park in the house

Decatur

Uh Old National got the skanks

Everybody uh

Know what I'm sayin'

Check it

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

'Cos I'm cooler than a polar bear's toenails

Oh hell there he go again talkin' that shit

Bend corners like I was a curve

I struck a nerve

And now you 'bout to see this Southern player 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 but I'm not worried

'Cos when we step up in the party like a mouse you scurry

So go get your fuckin' shine box and your sack of nickels

It tickles to see you try to be like Mister Pickles

Daddy Fat Sax, B-I-G B-O-I

It's that same motherfucker 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

Darnell locked up in prison

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer

Now my oral illustration 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

If or if not the child we raise gon' have that nigga syndrome

Or will it know to beat the odds regardless of the skin tone

Or will it 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

They alienate us 'cos we different

Keep your hands to the sky

Like Sounds of Blackness

When I practice what I preach ain't no lie

I'll be the baker and the maker

Of the piece of my pie

Now breaker, breaker Ten-Four can I get some reply

Now everybody say

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer

Every day 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 'cos we adjust to the beat in the zone

Honey I'm home but I'm not married

Carried a lot of problems around bein' frustrated

And now I'm sittin' at the end of the month

I just made it like you made the B team and like your daddy's wife you makin' that coffee

You heard the ATLiens so back the hell up off me

Softly as if I played piano in the dark

Found a way to channel my anger now to embark

The world's a stage and everybody gots 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

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer

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

Everybody let me hear you say

Oh yeah yer