ATLiens

Yeah, uh, East Point smokes some dank College Park in the house, Decatur Uh, Old National got the skanks Everybody, uh, nahmsayin'? Check it 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 talking 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 spent You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but I'm not worried 'Cause when we step up in the party; like a mouse, you scurry So go get your fucking shine box and your sack of nickels It tickles to see you try to be like Mr. Pickles Daddy Fat Sax, B-I-G B-O-I It's that same motherfucker that took them knuckles to your eye And I try, to warn you not to test, but you don't listen Giving the shout-out to my Uncle Darnell 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, "O-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, "O-Yea-yer" Now, my oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation To the female gender, ain't nothing 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 beat the odds regardless of the skin tone? 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? They alienate-us 'cause we different, keep your hands to the sky Like Sounds of Blackness when I practice what I preach, ain't no lie I'll be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pie 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, "O-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, "O-Yea-yer" Every day, I sit while my nigga be in school Thinking about the second album at the Dungeon shooting pool Like E-S to the P-N, 'cause we adjust to the beat in the zone (zone) Honey, I'm home but I'm not married Carried a lot of problems around being frustrated And now I'm sitting at the end of the month, I just made it Like you made the B team, and like your daddy's wife you making that 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 now to embark The world's a stage and everybody gots to play their part God works in mysterious ways, so when he starts The job of speaking 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, "O-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, "O-Yea-yer"