Текст песни OutKast - B.O.B

[Intro: André 3000] One, two One, two, three, yeah! [Verse 1: André 3000] Inslumnational underground Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (woo) Like a million elephants and silverback orangutans You can't stop a train Who want some? Don't come unprepared I'll be there, but when I leave there Bet I 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 (1-9-9-9) Anno Domini, anything goes, be what you wanna be 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 questions 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! [Hook 2x: André 3000 + Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah, don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad! [Verse 2: Big Boi] 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 bumping up and down the street Slantback Cadillac, 'bout 5 niggas deep 75 MC's freestyling to the beat 'Cause we get crunk, stay drunk at the club Should have bought an ounce, but you copped a dub Should have held back, but you throwed a 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 turn my back on my kids for them Should have 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 a roll Hold up, slow up, stop, "Control" Like Janet, plan it, Stankonia's on ya Moving like Floyd, coming straight to Florida Lock all your windows then block the corridors Pulling off a belt 'cause a whipping's in order Like a three-piece fish 'fore I cut your daughter Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border Pitty pat rappers trying to get to 5 I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive When you come to ATL, boy, you better not hide 'Cause the Dungeon Family gon' ride, hah! [Hook 2x: André 3000 + Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah, don't even bang unless you plan to hit something Bombs over Baghdad! [Morris Brown College Gospel Choir:] Bombs over Baghdad! [4x] [Outro: André 3000 + Morris Brown College Gospel Choir] Bob your head, rag top [16x] Power music, electric revival [10x]
Слова и текст песни OutKast - B.O.B принадлежит его авторам.

Добавить комментарий

Ваш e-mail не будет опубликован. Обязательные поля помечены *