bu konuda fikrin mi var? buraya entry ekle. üye ol
  1. 1.
    bir outkast şarkısı. şöyledir;

    [Dre]
    1, 2.. 1, 2, 3; yeah!
    In-slum-national, underground
    Thunder pounds when I stomp the ground (Woo!)
    Like a million elephants and silverback orangutans
    You can't stop a train
    Who want some? Don't come un-pre-pared
    I'll be there, but when I leave there
    Better be a household name
    Weather man tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
    So now we sittin' in a drop-top, soaking wet
    In a silk suit, tryin' not to sweat
    Hits somersaults without the net
    But this'll be the year that we won't forget
    One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Anno Domini anything goes, be whatchu wanna be
    Long as you know consequences, to give and for livin'
    The fence is too high to jump in jail
    Too low to dig, I might just touch hell
    HOT! Get a life, now they on sale
    Then I might cast you a spell, look at what came in the mail
    A scale and some Arm and Hammer, soul gold grill and some baby mama
    Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers
    Stack of question with no answers
    Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS
    Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days
    Get back home, things are wrong
    Well not really it was bad all along
    before he left adds up, to a ball of power
    Thoughts at a thousands miles per hour
    Hello, ghetto, let your brain breathe,
    believe there's always more, ahhhhh!

    [Chorus: 2X]
    [Dre] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
    [Choir] Bombs over Baghdad!
    [Dre] Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
    Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something
    [Choir] Bombs over Baghdad!
    [Dre] Yeah! Uhh-huh

    [Big Boi]
    Uno, dos, tres, it's on
    Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?
    Like that there boy and we still stay street
    Big things happen every time we meet
    Like a track team, crack fiend, dying to geek
    Outkast bumpin' up and down the street
    Slant back, Cadillac, 'bout five nigga deep
    Seventy-five MC's freestylin' to the beat
    Cause we get crunk, stay crunk, at the club
    Should have bought an ounce, but you copped a dub
    Should have held back, but you throwed the punch
    'Spose to meet your girl but you packed a lunch
    No D to-the U to-the G for you
    Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo
    Got a little baby girl four year, Jordan
    Never turn my back on my kids for them
    Should have hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)
    Before you RE up, get a laptop
    Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals
    Make a fat diamond out of dusty coals
    Record number four, but we on the road
    Hold up, slow up, stop, control
    Like Janet, Planets, Stankonia is on ya
    A movin' like Floyd commin' straight to Florida
    Lock all your windows then block the corridors
    Pullin' off on bell 'cause a whippings in order
    I like a three piece fish before I cut your daughter
    Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border
    Pity PAT rappers tryin' to get the five
    I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive
    When you come to ATL boi you better not hide
    cause the Dungeon Family gon' ride, hah!

    [Chorus: 2X]
    [Dre] Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
    [Choir] Bombs over Baghdad!
    [Dre] Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
    Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something
    [Choir] Bombs over Baghdad!
    [Dre] Yeah! Uhh-huh

    [Choir]
    Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
    Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
    Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
    Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah

    [Dre]
    B-I-G, B-O-I
    An-An-Andre
    To the T-O-P

    [Dre and Big Boi: 15X]
    Bob your head. Rag top.
    ... thedewil