- Votes:
- Composers:
- Andre Benjamin
- Antwan Patton
 
- Genres:
- 90s
- Hip-Hop
 
- Tags:
- outkast
- rap
 
- See also:
Outkast - Atliens lyrics
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, corners 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 spend
 You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but 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
 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 yea 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 yea yer
 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
 If or if not the child we raise gon' have that nigga syndrome
 Or will it know to be the hard regardless of the skintone
 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
 The alienators 'cause we different keep your hands to the sky
 Like Sounds of Blackness when I practice what I preach and don't lie
 I'll be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pieOutkast - Atliens - http://motolyrics.com/outkast/atliens-lyrics.html
 Now breaker, breaker 10-4 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 yea 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 yea yer
 Everyday 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, 'cause we adjust to the beat in the zone
 Honey I'm home but I'm not married
 Carried a lot of problems around being frustrated
 And now I'm sittin' at the end of the month I just made it
 Like you made the B team and like
 The daddy's wife you makin' the 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 not to embark
 The world's a stage and everybody gots to play they 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 yea 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 yea yer















