Throw Your Hands Up (feat. Outkast)

Bitch, I ain't got nothing but time

So I'ma get out on these cuts and grind

Keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine

My player ways keep me with plenty dimes

See, I'ma shine like all six of my gold teeth

When a **** get through cooking up this O-Z

All night on the block till the sunrise

My only friend is the Glock with the 4-5

Four, five in the mornin', it don't stop

Daydreamin' 'bout flossin' a drop top

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

Searched a **** 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 your folks from

Down in the bottom's where they broke some

Whips cross a **** back, way back

And now they wonder why we act, how we act

Gold teeth and heavy Chevys and talking slow

Afros and loud ass Italian clothes

People barbecuin' in the front yard

Money from the first of the month card

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

I got a maid cooking grits with a outfit

So tight, my **** wanna stay the whole night

Dice game in the kitchen, ****, T-Lee

**** drunk singin', soundin' like The Bee Gees

Ham sandwich in the driveway, drop top

Naked women in the den, playing hopscotch

Thirty bustas in my yard, they be long gone

So hit me and I'ma keep my phone on

I be out turnin' corners, drinkin' one fifth

Got some scratches on my rims 'cause of one dip

Met a broad yesterday, she hit me ten tines

If I diss her, it'll take a **** ten lines

MJG standin' tall and I won't fold

You can have all the bitches 'cause I don't hold

Onto any woman like a human handcuff

You got your hair down, baby, fuck it, stand up

Now I heard that the South is where your folks from

Down in the bottom's where they broke some

Whips cross a **** back, way back

And now they wonder why we act, how we act

Gold teeth and heavy Chevys and talking slow

Afros and loud ass Italian clothes

People barbecuin' in the front yard

Money from the first of the month card

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

How many flows can I compose?

I drop this slang like lyrical bows

Stickin' out just like Outkast

Or a thorn from stem of rose

Like nachos, the lyrics are crispy

Crakin' when y'all bite

Been had a Coke and a smile

Now I'm trippin' off yak and Sprite

Y'all just might see my skunk guy

With a girl who chunked thighed

Below the Mason-Dixon line

Real **** know what I'm talkin' about

From Texas, Atlanta, oh man, Alabama, Savannah

The deeper, the darker

The 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 sucker, sprayed you

Cut your wife and played her

The player B-I-G B-O-I

Dope boy, rhyme maker

Beats, rhymes, and layers of music

Right here to please you

And if you hate the dirty

Then partner, see, we don't need you

You know what I'm talkin' 'bout?

OutKast, 8Ball, MJG on y'all punk motherfuckers

Now I heard that the South is where your folks from

Down in the bottom's where they broke some

Whips cross a **** back, way back

And now they wonder why we act, how we act

Gold teeth and heavy Chevys and talking slow

Afros and loud ass Italian clothes

People barbecuin' in the front yard

Money from the first of the month card

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

You wouldn't understand, if you stood under it, oh

It's like the more that I talk to you, the dumber that I get

The closer that I walk to you, the further that we stand

Apart, distant

Nobody has the upper hand, but my body's resistant

So now, throw your phalanges in the ground

I'm still abound, unbelievers stray from hell around

I found negative **** they only keep you down

Transmitting from Native American burial ground

I carry around the weight of all worlds on my shoulder pads

I'm 'posed to blast space invaders up somebody's dad

Serious as A-B-C

If knowledge be the key, then buddy roasted on the porch

And wait for your mama to get off work

So she can roast your ass

They need to find an open window fast

Word to the motherfucker, word to the motherfucker

Word to the motherfucker

Now I heard that the South is where your folks from

Down in the bottom's where they broke some

Whips cross a **** back, way back

And now they wonder why we act, how we act

Gold teeth and heavy Chevys and talking slow

Afros and loud ass Italian clothes

People barbecuin' in the front yard

Money from the first of the month card

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up

If anybody out there hear me, get your hands up

If anybody out there feel me, get your hands up