Karaoké B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) OutKast

One

Two

One two three yeah

Inslumnational, underground

Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground

Like a million elephants or silverback orangutan

You can't stop the train

Who want some

Don't come unprepared

I'll be there but when I leave there

Bet I'll be a household name

Weather man 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

Hit somersaults without the net

But this'll be the year that we won't forget

One nine nine nine

Anno Domini

Anything goes

Be what you wanna be as long as you know

Consequences are given for livin'

The fence is too high to jump in jail

Too low to dig

I might just touch hell, hot

Get a life, now they on sale

Then I might cast you a spell

Look at what came in the mail

A scale and some Arm and Hammer

Soul-gold grill and a baby mama

Black Cadillac and a pack of Pampers

Stack of question with no answers

Cure for cancer

Cure for AIDS

Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days

Get back home

Things are wrong

Well not really

It was bad all along

Before you 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 more

Ah

Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang

Yeah

Yeah

Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something

Yeah

Uh uh uh

Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang

Uh huh huh

Yeah don't even bang unless you plan to hit something

Uno dos tres

It's on

Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone

Like that there boy and will still stay street

Big things happen every time we meet

Like a track team

Crack fiend dyin' to geek

OutKast bumpin' up and down the street

Slant back Cadillac 'bout five niggas deep

Seventy-five MCs freestylin' to the beat

'Cos we get crunk

Stay drunk at the club

Should've bought an ounce but you copped a dub

Should've held back but you throwed 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-year, 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 coal

Record number four but we on a roll

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 'cos a whippin's in order

Like a three-piece fish before I cut your daughter

Yo quiero Taco Bell then I hit the border

Pitty-pat rappers tryin' to get to five

I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive

When you come to ATL boy you better not hide 'cos the Dungeon Family gon' ride hah hah

Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang

Ayy

Yeah

Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something

Ayy

Yeah

Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang

Uh huh

Yeah

Yeah don't even bang unless you plan to hit something

Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

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Bob your head

Rag-top