Music Video

Outkast - Xplosion (Feat. B-Real)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Outkast
Outkast
Vocals
André 3000
André 3000
Vocals
Big Boi
Big Boi
Vocals
Debra Killings
Debra Killings
Background Vocals
Dungeon Rats
Dungeon Rats
Background Vocals
EJ The Witch Doctor
EJ The Witch Doctor
Background Vocals
Chanz Parkman
Chanz Parkman
Keyboards
Preston Crump
Preston Crump
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Antwan Patton
Antwan Patton
Songwriter
David Sheats
David Sheats
Songwriter
Louis Freese
Louis Freese
Songwriter
Erin Johnson
Erin Johnson
Songwriter
André "3000" Benjamin
André "3000" Benjamin
Songwriter
Earthtone III
Earthtone III
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Earthtone III
Earthtone III
Producer
John Frye
John Frye
Recording Engineer
Jason Stokes
Jason Stokes
Recording Engineer
Kevin Parker
Kevin Parker
Recording Engineer
Vincent Alexander
Vincent Alexander
Assistant Engineer
Brad Hengerer
Brad Hengerer
Assistant Engineer
Leslie Brathwaite
Leslie Brathwaite
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Hello Lord, it's me again I just wanna make to love the whole globe And all her girlfriends now don't that make ya mind move Like smoke patterns, me on my way to Saturn wit a bomb Numb be it view, or Saudi Shawty I figure before the first gun blast, they know who gone win Now won't that make us all fools Like class clowns praying Private Ryan comes round Sound travels at one thousand, one thirty, feet per second Niggaz in the street they want it hurry When niggaz start biting that's when 3000 starts to worry A little knowledge from the college of wizard Ray Murray Answer quick do you know what desire is? Huh? Apparently not that's why you get what you got Now answer this do you know what fire is? Yeah The body of hot, the motivator of pots Snot, spit, shit are characteristics of release Ask your niece or nephew, you think we left you What the future holds in its sweaty palms Thank I'm finna vom? Ya move like ya mean it she'll cum Prom night might excite a down right fight like White blood cells to the common cold rebel Night gets jealous of day play is no longer The feelin' gets stronger than Ammonia sticks inhale We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed And we some home-made bombs finna blow right up in your face Look at the way you look at me I see it on your face All your hate emanates but you still hesitate 'Cause you want inside of my head but don't know how To brainwash me to be a commercial clown Fuck that I see the way you were See the way you smirk I'm catching you where you work God only knows all the trouble that grows Deep beneath my soul dealing with you assholes Can I blast those who point the finger at me Who criticize and talk shit so freely Fuck double XL, you're a size too small I should hire Eminem so we can kill you all Whether you live to talk shit about the Real Then kiss my ass in person how much you love the Hill I'm the outcast comin' to blaze the grass Outlaw due to my life that's come to pass Dre, pass me the glass of wine So I can pour it over my homies grave and mine For all those who fallen and answered when God was calling Jump into my ragtop and get all in I'm the bomb, planted in your car, why you frozen? Pop the tape in ignite the xplosion The world is mine, the world is yours, the world is ours The world is lost, the world is tossed We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed And we some home-made bombs finna blow right up in your face With a one-two punch, B-Real and Andre dropped theys Your homeboy Daddy Fat Sax playin' clean-up so it worsens People and persons on the opposite teams oh, yes it's curtains No bullets burpin' oh just lyrically twerking Making a statement, when you freestyle and your mind is in a free state Is kinda hard to execute when you ain't feeling it that day Jumpin' the gun and rushing your flow Babbling on the mikie like auctioneer, got the public's ears Fucked up can't hear, Atlanta, Georgia where y'all at? OutKast this Dirty South to death the Dungeon Family Camp Got this thang lit like stamps and nine-volt battery end caps Making that music that make your neck hurt And the beats that bother your back in my Cadillac Six woofers and four amps, lo pro vogues on swole With the carriage lamps diamond tucked velour pistol in my lap Come in peace but then xplode like booty traps We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade We just can't be amazed And we some home-made bombs finna blow right up in your face
Writer(s): Co-writer Unknown, David A Sheats Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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