Throw Your Hands Up (feat. Outkast)

Bitch, I ain't got nothing but time, so I'mma get out on these cuts and grind keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine My player ways keep me with plenty dimes See I'mma shine like all six of my gold teeth When a nigga get through cooking up, this O-Z All night on the block til the sun rise My only friend is a Glock with the 4-5 Four five in the mornin it don't stop Day dreamin bout flousin tha drop top, (woop) Blue lights snap me back to reality I hit the alley quick and toss what I got on me Tricks ain't got shit to do but harass Search tha nigga and took about a three in cash I guess that's better than gettin locked up Or gettin jammed with that shit I had rocked up, huh! Now I heard that the South is where yo folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga back, way back And now they wonder why we act, how we act Gold teeth and heavy chevys, and talking slow Afros & loud ass Italian clothes People bar-be-quein in the front yard Money from the first of the month card If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up! I got a maid cooking grits, with a, outfit So tight my niggas wanna stay the whole nite Dice game in the kitchen, nigga, T. Lee Nigga drunk singin sounding like tha Bee Gees Ham sam'ich in the driveway, drop top Naked women in tha den playing, hop scotch Thirty bustas in my yard, they be, long gone So hit me and I'mma keep my, phone on I be out turning corners, dranking, one fifth Got some scratches on my rims, cause of one dip Met a broad yesterday, she hit me, ten times If I diss her it'll take a nigga ten lines MJG standing tall and I, won't fold You can have all the bitches, cause I, don't hold On to any woman like a human hand cuff You got ya hair down baby fuck it, stand up! Now I heard that the South is where yo folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga back, way back And now they wonder why we act, how we act Gold teeth and heavy chevys, and talking slow Afros & loud ass Italian clothes People bar-be-quein in the front yard Money from the first of the month card If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up! How many flows can I compose, I drop this slang like lyrical bows Stickin out just like an OUTKAST, over thornt from StimmerGroves Like nachos, the lyrics are crispy, crackin when y'all bite Been had a coke and a smile, now I'm trippin off Yak & Sprite Y'all just might seem to skunk eyed, with a girl who chunked thighed Below the Mason-Dixon line, real niggas know what I'm talkin about From Texas, Atlanta, oh man, Alabama, Savannah The deeper the darker tha dirty south is what I'm after No laughter, the content of the rhyme may be contagious The Space Age is pimpin this, players comin major They shot the psycho that sprayed, cut ya wife and played her The player the B.I.G, B.O.I, dope boy rhyme maker Beats by the layers, of music right here to please you But if ain't that dirty then patna see we don't need you You know I'm talkin bout OutKast, Eightball, MJG on y'all punk motherfuckers! Now I heard that the South is where yo folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga back, way back And now they wonder why we act, how we act Gold teeth and heavy chevys, and talking slow Afros & loud ass Italian clothes People bar-be-quein in the front yard Money from the first of the month card If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up! You wouldn't understand, if you stood under it (ooh) It's like the more that I talk to you tha dumber that I get The closer that I walk to you, the further that we stand Apart distance, nobody has the upper hand but my bodies resistance So now, throw your filangies in tha ground I'm still abound, un-believers stay from hell around I found negatives niggas they only keep ya down Transmitting from Native American burial grounds I carry around, the weight of all worlds on my shoulderpads Um post ta blast space invaders up somebodys dad Serious as Aa-Bb-Cc, if knowledge be the key then Buddy roasted on the porch, and wait for ya momma to get off work So she can roast yo ass, either to finda open window fast Word to the motherfucker, word to the motherfucker Word to the motherfucker! Now I heard that the South is where yo folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga back, way back And now they wonder why we act, how we act Gold teeth and heavy chevys, and talking slow Afros & loud ass Italian clothes People bar-be-quein in the front yard Money from the first of the month card If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up If anybody out their hear me get ya hands up If anybody out their feel me get ya hands up