| 作词 : Andrews, Benjamin, Patton ... | |
| Our shit don't mix like llao and lukewarm water | |
| Better make it hotter splash ice and watch it rock up | |
| I oughta duct tape your infant daughter | |
| Show y'all soldier ass niggaz, | |
| I'm Murder | |
| City's Sergeant | |
| SlaughterGuaranteed to get more cut than a barber | |
| I betcha I'll drill your heifer like | |
| Black & Decker | |
| This pussy wrecker and white water couldn't get it wetter | |
| I'm guaranteed to leave her swiss cheese for more cheddar | |
| I give a ****, suede bucks and | |
| Coogi sweaters | |
| What's up? | |
| Whatever sable fur to lamb leather | |
| I've seen it all in the trap with fitted caps for cold weather | |
| And creased denim threats delivered when | |
| I send 'em | |
| Nigga know | |
| I, FedEx my shit, overnight express my shit | |
| Deliver my hits quick, who next on my shit list | |
| Banana niggaz need to split | |
| Quit ****ing with this, thorough | |
| Atlanta click | |
| This here is | |
| Slum Lordz we make your terrific shit tragic | |
| My pen and pixel make violence more graphic | |
| Take raw coke, cook it crack and saran wrap it | |
| One mutha****in' verse and already it's a classic | |
| One mutha****in' verse and already it's a classic | |
| Killer Mike nigga! | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| My Cadillac got that boom, boom in it, listen to it drop | |
| Like cereal in your breakfast bowl just jumpin' off the top | |
| A nigga don't stop for squares or octagons prepare | |
| I'm not the one you scared, the | |
| Piccolo Pimp done set up shop | |
| Nigga you pop lock, for pop rocks, but | |
| I'm only poppin' tweeters | |
| And woofers and pussies be blowing purple wit' my feet up | |
| I'mma eat up anybody who tests this, | |
| I'm blessed wit' | |
| Super human powers, poke your chest in | |
| The next of kin gon' be the first one like some | |
| Mexicans to buck | |
| Nigga you stuck like a truck in red dirt, you's in church | |
| And I'm the deacon speakin' while ya tweakin' | |
| The preacher preachin', reachin', teachin', speakin', being, breathin' | |
| You're not, your clock stop, and now you're laying in a pretty box | |
| And now pastor is only talking 'bout the pretty parts of your life | |
| Your brother ****in' your damn wife | |
| You look for the pearly white gates, but you realize your fate | |
| It's too late, you hate, you hate | |
| It's too late, 'cause you hate | |
| Punk pussy ass bitch, game over, who want some? | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| Roll my blunts thick, like | |
| I like my bitch | |
| Lick my blunts and spit, like she do my dick | |
| Attempted murder dick, for ways | |
| I choke chicks | |
| Spit it in her eye make it hard to focus | |
| Killer Mike gonna calm down, things gonna get a little crazy | |
| Ol' girl might yell rape | |
| G, you might as well give her a throat baby | |
| Goop goobler, goop gravy, no dicking her down to the ground | |
| Now you doing the | |
| Dirty South, know what | |
| I'm talkin' about | |
| Big Boi, my mentor, hear what you hollering about | |
| But **** that, | |
| I'm looking for love all in her mouth | |
| Need her to gobble up jism, like school lunches | |
| Need her to take cat beatings and throw punches | |
| Like a swarm of locusts, no hocus-pocus | |
| You wanna approach us, buzzards and vultures | |
| We two of the dopest mic controllers | |
| Stack big bank, honey folders | |
| Even wit' rollers, | |
| I'm trying to told ya | |
| Even loving, lavish, ladies, leaving, landmarks | |
| Of lemon-lime, lip gloss on your lavender lapels | |
| Leaping lizards, keep me slizzard, my mind's expanding | |
| Readily rappin' and snappin', snappin' and trappin' | |
| That's just what's happening | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| Don't you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K.B.Baby won't you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I'll box you in your mutha****in' mouth | |
| A whey you want come dis | |
| When you know you nuh fit | |
| You better move you bombo | |
| Before me start trip | |
| Nuff a them a talk | |
| OutKastNuff a them a trip | |
| Nuff a them come in like a bitch | |
| Whey wear slip | |
| A J-Sweet me name an' me already | |
| ChrisA Out | |
| Kast me spar wid so boy nuh try dis | |
| If you dis boy shot knaw go miss | |
| Gun shot a go teck you just like fits | |
| Boy hear me song an' thought a remix | |
| Brand new tune platinum hits | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J- | |
| Sweet[Incomprehensible] | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J- | |
| Sweet, Killer | |
| Mike[Incomprehensible] | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch |
| zuo ci : Andrews, Benjamin, Patton ... | |
| Our shit don' t mix like llao and lukewarm water | |
| Better make it hotter splash ice and watch it rock up | |
| I oughta duct tape your infant daughter | |
| Show y' all soldier ass niggaz, | |
| I' m Murder | |
| City' s Sergeant | |
| SlaughterGuaranteed to get more cut than a barber | |
| I betcha I' ll drill your heifer like | |
| Black Decker | |
| This pussy wrecker and white water couldn' t get it wetter | |
| I' m guaranteed to leave her swiss cheese for more cheddar | |
| I give a , suede bucks and | |
| Coogi sweaters | |
| What' s up? | |
| Whatever sable fur to lamb leather | |
| I' ve seen it all in the trap with fitted caps for cold weather | |
| And creased denim threats delivered when | |
| I send ' em | |
| Nigga know | |
| I, FedEx my shit, overnight express my shit | |
| Deliver my hits quick, who next on my shit list | |
| Banana niggaz need to split | |
| Quit ing with this, thorough | |
| Atlanta click | |
| This here is | |
| Slum Lordz we make your terrific shit tragic | |
| My pen and pixel make violence more graphic | |
| Take raw coke, cook it crack and saran wrap it | |
| One mutha in' verse and already it' s a classic | |
| One mutha in' verse and already it' s a classic | |
| Killer Mike nigga! | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| My Cadillac got that boom, boom in it, listen to it drop | |
| Like cereal in your breakfast bowl just jumpin' off the top | |
| A nigga don' t stop for squares or octagons prepare | |
| I' m not the one you scared, the | |
| Piccolo Pimp done set up shop | |
| Nigga you pop lock, for pop rocks, but | |
| I' m only poppin' tweeters | |
| And woofers and pussies be blowing purple wit' my feet up | |
| I' mma eat up anybody who tests this, | |
| I' m blessed wit' | |
| Super human powers, poke your chest in | |
| The next of kin gon' be the first one like some | |
| Mexicans to buck | |
| Nigga you stuck like a truck in red dirt, you' s in church | |
| And I' m the deacon speakin' while ya tweakin' | |
| The preacher preachin', reachin', teachin', speakin', being, breathin' | |
| You' re not, your clock stop, and now you' re laying in a pretty box | |
| And now pastor is only talking ' bout the pretty parts of your life | |
| Your brother in' your damn wife | |
| You look for the pearly white gates, but you realize your fate | |
| It' s too late, you hate, you hate | |
| It' s too late, ' cause you hate | |
| Punk pussy ass bitch, game over, who want some? | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Roll my blunts thick, like | |
| I like my bitch | |
| Lick my blunts and spit, like she do my dick | |
| Attempted murder dick, for ways | |
| I choke chicks | |
| Spit it in her eye make it hard to focus | |
| Killer Mike gonna calm down, things gonna get a little crazy | |
| Ol' girl might yell rape | |
| G, you might as well give her a throat baby | |
| Goop goobler, goop gravy, no dicking her down to the ground | |
| Now you doing the | |
| Dirty South, know what | |
| I' m talkin' about | |
| Big Boi, my mentor, hear what you hollering about | |
| But that, | |
| I' m looking for love all in her mouth | |
| Need her to gobble up jism, like school lunches | |
| Need her to take cat beatings and throw punches | |
| Like a swarm of locusts, no hocuspocus | |
| You wanna approach us, buzzards and vultures | |
| We two of the dopest mic controllers | |
| Stack big bank, honey folders | |
| Even wit' rollers, | |
| I' m trying to told ya | |
| Even loving, lavish, ladies, leaving, landmarks | |
| Of lemonlime, lip gloss on your lavender lapels | |
| Leaping lizards, keep me slizzard, my mind' s expanding | |
| Readily rappin' and snappin', snappin' and trappin' | |
| That' s just what' s happening | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| A whey you want come dis | |
| When you know you nuh fit | |
| You better move you bombo | |
| Before me start trip | |
| Nuff a them a talk | |
| OutKastNuff a them a trip | |
| Nuff a them come in like a bitch | |
| Whey wear slip | |
| A JSweet me name an' me already | |
| ChrisA Out | |
| Kast me spar wid so boy nuh try dis | |
| If you dis boy shot knaw go miss | |
| Gun shot a go teck you just like fits | |
| Boy hear me song an' thought a remix | |
| Brand new tune platinum hits | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J | |
| Sweet Incomprehensible | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J | |
| Sweet, Killer | |
| Mike Incomprehensible | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch |
| zuò cí : Andrews, Benjamin, Patton ... | |
| Our shit don' t mix like llao and lukewarm water | |
| Better make it hotter splash ice and watch it rock up | |
| I oughta duct tape your infant daughter | |
| Show y' all soldier ass niggaz, | |
| I' m Murder | |
| City' s Sergeant | |
| SlaughterGuaranteed to get more cut than a barber | |
| I betcha I' ll drill your heifer like | |
| Black Decker | |
| This pussy wrecker and white water couldn' t get it wetter | |
| I' m guaranteed to leave her swiss cheese for more cheddar | |
| I give a , suede bucks and | |
| Coogi sweaters | |
| What' s up? | |
| Whatever sable fur to lamb leather | |
| I' ve seen it all in the trap with fitted caps for cold weather | |
| And creased denim threats delivered when | |
| I send ' em | |
| Nigga know | |
| I, FedEx my shit, overnight express my shit | |
| Deliver my hits quick, who next on my shit list | |
| Banana niggaz need to split | |
| Quit ing with this, thorough | |
| Atlanta click | |
| This here is | |
| Slum Lordz we make your terrific shit tragic | |
| My pen and pixel make violence more graphic | |
| Take raw coke, cook it crack and saran wrap it | |
| One mutha in' verse and already it' s a classic | |
| One mutha in' verse and already it' s a classic | |
| Killer Mike nigga! | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| My Cadillac got that boom, boom in it, listen to it drop | |
| Like cereal in your breakfast bowl just jumpin' off the top | |
| A nigga don' t stop for squares or octagons prepare | |
| I' m not the one you scared, the | |
| Piccolo Pimp done set up shop | |
| Nigga you pop lock, for pop rocks, but | |
| I' m only poppin' tweeters | |
| And woofers and pussies be blowing purple wit' my feet up | |
| I' mma eat up anybody who tests this, | |
| I' m blessed wit' | |
| Super human powers, poke your chest in | |
| The next of kin gon' be the first one like some | |
| Mexicans to buck | |
| Nigga you stuck like a truck in red dirt, you' s in church | |
| And I' m the deacon speakin' while ya tweakin' | |
| The preacher preachin', reachin', teachin', speakin', being, breathin' | |
| You' re not, your clock stop, and now you' re laying in a pretty box | |
| And now pastor is only talking ' bout the pretty parts of your life | |
| Your brother in' your damn wife | |
| You look for the pearly white gates, but you realize your fate | |
| It' s too late, you hate, you hate | |
| It' s too late, ' cause you hate | |
| Punk pussy ass bitch, game over, who want some? | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Roll my blunts thick, like | |
| I like my bitch | |
| Lick my blunts and spit, like she do my dick | |
| Attempted murder dick, for ways | |
| I choke chicks | |
| Spit it in her eye make it hard to focus | |
| Killer Mike gonna calm down, things gonna get a little crazy | |
| Ol' girl might yell rape | |
| G, you might as well give her a throat baby | |
| Goop goobler, goop gravy, no dicking her down to the ground | |
| Now you doing the | |
| Dirty South, know what | |
| I' m talkin' about | |
| Big Boi, my mentor, hear what you hollering about | |
| But that, | |
| I' m looking for love all in her mouth | |
| Need her to gobble up jism, like school lunches | |
| Need her to take cat beatings and throw punches | |
| Like a swarm of locusts, no hocuspocus | |
| You wanna approach us, buzzards and vultures | |
| We two of the dopest mic controllers | |
| Stack big bank, honey folders | |
| Even wit' rollers, | |
| I' m trying to told ya | |
| Even loving, lavish, ladies, leaving, landmarks | |
| Of lemonlime, lip gloss on your lavender lapels | |
| Leaping lizards, keep me slizzard, my mind' s expanding | |
| Readily rappin' and snappin', snappin' and trappin' | |
| That' s just what' s happening | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| Don' t you be looking at me crazy like ya want to | |
| The game is over | |
| K. B. Baby won' t you just quit the contemplating' | |
| Cause I' ll box you in your mutha in' mouth | |
| A whey you want come dis | |
| When you know you nuh fit | |
| You better move you bombo | |
| Before me start trip | |
| Nuff a them a talk | |
| OutKastNuff a them a trip | |
| Nuff a them come in like a bitch | |
| Whey wear slip | |
| A JSweet me name an' me already | |
| ChrisA Out | |
| Kast me spar wid so boy nuh try dis | |
| If you dis boy shot knaw go miss | |
| Gun shot a go teck you just like fits | |
| Boy hear me song an' thought a remix | |
| Brand new tune platinum hits | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J | |
| Sweet Incomprehensible | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch | |
| OutKast, J | |
| Sweet, Killer | |
| Mike Incomprehensible | |
| We nah gon' run and switch like no bitch |
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