outkast hip Lyrics

1, 2.. 1, 2, 3; yeah!Â
Inter-national, undergroundÂ
Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!)Â
Like a million elephants with silverback orangutansÂ
You can't stop a trainÂ
Who want some? Don't come un-pre-paredÂ
I'll be there, but when I leave thereÂ
Better be a household nameÂ
Weather man tellin' us it ain't gon' rainÂ
So now we sittin' in a drop-top, soaken' wetÂ
In a silk suit, tryin' not to sweatÂ
Hits somersaults without the netÂ
But this'll be the year that we won't forgetÂ
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, and brutha anything goes, be whatchu wanna beÂ
Long as you know consequences, to give and for livin' defensesÂ
Too hot, I'm jumpin' jailÂ
Too low to dig, I might just touch hellÂ
HOT! Get a life, now they gon' sellÂ
Then I might catch you a spell, look at what came in the mailÂ
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, so grow grid and some baby mÂ¨¢maÂ
Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers, stack of question with no answersÂ
Cure for cancer, cure for AIDSÂ
Make a n____ wanna stay onto it for daysÂ
Get back home, things are wrongÂ
We're not really able to spend all aloneÂ
before he left, (?), to a ball of powerÂ
Thousands of thousands miles per hourÂ
Hello, ghetto, let your brain breath,Â
believe there's always moreÂ
Ahhhhh!Â

Chorus: 2XÂ
[Dre] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bangÂ
{Choir Bombs over Baghdad!Â
[Dre] Yeah! Ha ha yeah!Â
Don't even bang unless you plan to hit somethingÂ
{Choir Bombs over Baghdad!Â
{Dre Yeah! Uhh-huhÂ

[Big Boi]Â
Uno, dos, tres, it's onÂ
Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?Â
Like that there boy and will still stay streetÂ
Big things happen every time we meetÂ
Like a track team, crack fiend, dyin to geekÂ
Outkast b__pin' up and down the streetÂ
Slam back, Cadillac, 'bout five n____ deepÂ
Seventy-five emcee's freestylin' to the beatÂ
Cause we get krunk, stay drunk, at the clubÂ
Should have bought an ounce, but you caught the dubÂ
Should have held back, but you throwed the punchÂ
'Spose to meet your girl but you packed a lunchÂ
No D to-the U to-the G for youÂ
Got a son on the way by the name of BambooÂ
Got a little baby girl four year, JordanÂ
Never turn my back on my kids for themÂ
Should have hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)Â
Before you read up, get a laptopÂ
Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goalsÂ
Make a fair dime out of dusty coalÂ
Record number four, but we on a rollÂ
Hold up, slow up, stop, controlÂ
Like Janet, planets, Stankonia is onlyÂ
A movin' like floor commin' straight to FloridaÂ
Lock all your windows then block the quartersÂ
Pullin' off on bell 'cause a whippins in orderÂ
Like a three piece fist, 'fore I cut your daughterÂ
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the borderÂ
Penny pap rappers tryin' to get the fiveÂ
I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay aliveÂ
When you come to A-town well you better not hideÂ
cause the Dungeon Family gonna rideÂ
Hah!Â

{ChoirÂ
Bombs over Baghdad! YeahÂ
Bombs over Baghdad! YeahÂ
Bombs over Baghdad! YeahÂ
Bombs over Baghdad! YeahÂ

[Dre]Â
B-I-G, B-O-IÂ
An-An-AndreÂ
To the T-O-PÂ

[Dre and Big Boi]: 15XÂ
Bob your head. Rag top.Â

(1, 2.. 1, 2, 3, 4) (Gimme some)Â