Vídeo de música

Destacado em

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Khujo Goodie
Khujo Goodie
Vocals
Big Boi
Big Boi
Vocals
André 3000
André 3000
Vocals
Victor Alexander
Victor Alexander
Drums
David "Whild" Brown
David "Whild" Brown
Guitar
Preston Crump
Preston Crump
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Antwan Patton
Antwan Patton
Songwriter
David Sheats
David Sheats
Songwriter
Willie Knighton
Willie Knighton
Songwriter
André "3000" Benjamin
André "3000" Benjamin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Earthtone III
Earthtone III
Producer
John Frye
John Frye
Recording Engineer
Vincent Alexander
Vincent Alexander
Assistant Recording Engineer
Leslie Brathwaite
Leslie Brathwaite
Mixing Engineer
Warren Bletcher
Warren Bletcher
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer

Letra

Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright, alright Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline? Well burn muthafucka burn American dreams Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie? We'll snap for yo' slice of life I'm tellin' ya why I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control The coldest pimp be looking for somebody to hold The highway up to Heaven got a crook on the toll Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go All of my heroes did dope Every nigga 'round me playing married, or paying child support I can't cope, never made no sense to me one day I hope it will And that's that, sport, sport Pray I live to see the day when Seven's happily married with kids Woe woe, the world is moving fast and I'm losing my balance Now time to dig, low low To a place where ain't nowhere to go but up You with me say shit, sho sho Now let me ask y'all this Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline? Well burn muthafucka burn American dreams Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie? We'll snap for yo' slice of life I'm tellin' ya why I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control The coldest pimp be looking for somebody to hold The highway up to Heaven got a crook on the toll Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go It's shitty like Ricky Stratton got a million bucks My cousin Ricky Walker got ten years doing Fed time On a first offense drug bust, fuck the Holice That's if ya racist or ya crooked Arrest me for this dope I didn't weight it up or cook it You gotta charge the world cause over a million people took it Look at me, I'm outta your jurisdiction now ya lookin' stupid Officer, get off me sir Don't make me call L.A. he'll have ya walking sir A couple of months ago they gave OutKast the key to the city But I still gotta pay my taxes and they give us no pity About these youngsters amongst us You think they respect the law They think they monsters, they love us, reality rappin' And giving the youth the truth from this booth And when we on stage we scream Don't everybody, everybody Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline? Well burn muthafucka burn American dreams Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie? We'll snap for yo' slice of life I'm tellin' ya why I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control The coldest pimp be looking for somebody to hold The highway up to Heaven got a crook on the toll Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go Officer of the most high You touch me you touch the apple of his eye If they kick us out, where will we go? Not to Africa cause not one of them acknowledge us as their kin folk Still eatin' pork Abomination desecration for beating flesh Penalty for violation is death Woe, woe, to the man that strive with his maker on Judgement Day Hip Hip Hooray! Mr. Reaper Babylon the great The mother of harlots is falling, prophecy must be fulfilled The lake of fire is calling Don't everybody like the smell of gasoline? Well burn muthafucka burn American dreams Don't everybody like the taste of apple pie? We'll snap for yo' slice of life I'm tellin' ya why I hear that Mother Nature now's on birth control The coldest pimp be looking for somebody to hold The highway up to Heaven got a crook on the toll Youth full of fire ain't got nowhere to go, nowhere to go
Writer(s): Antwan Patton, Andre Benjamin, David Sheats, Willie Edward Knighton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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