Текст песни Throw Your Hands Up - OutKast , 8Ball & MJG

Bitch, I ain′t got nothin' 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 nigga get through cooking up this oz
All night on the block 'til the sunrise
My only friend is the Glock with the .45
Four, five in the mornin,′ it don′t stop
Day dreamin' ′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
Search the 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 your folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke soft
Whips 'cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act how we act
Gold teeth and heavy chevys and talking slower
Afros and loud-ass Italian clothes
People barbecuing in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
I got a maid cooking grits, with a outfit
So tight my niggas wanna stay the whole night
Dice game in the kitchen, nigga, T. Lee
Nigga drunk singin,′ soundin′ like the Bee Gees
Ham sandwitch in the driveway, drop top
Naked women in the den playing hop scotch
Thirty bustas in my yard, they be long gone
So hit me, and I'ma keep my phone on
I be out turnin′ corners, drinking 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 handcuff
You got ya head down, baby, fuck it, stand up
Now I heard that the South is where your folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke soft
Whips 'cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act how we act
Gold teeth and heavy chevys and talking slower
Afros and loud-ass Italian clothes
People barbecuing in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there 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 'yac and Sprite
Y′all just might see me skunked out with a girl who chunked out
Below the Mason-Dixon line, real niggas 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 is playas comin′ major
They shot just like I sprayed ya, cut ya wife and played her
The player, the B-I-G B-O-I, dope boy rhyme maker
Beats, tryin′ to layer some music right here to please you
But if you hate the Dirty, then partna, 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 your folks from
Down in the bottoms where they broke soft
Whips ′cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act how we act
Gold teeth and heavy chevys and talking slower
Afros and loud-ass Italian clothes
People barbecuing in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there 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, 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, nonbelievers stay from hell around
I found negative niggas, they only keep ya down
Transmitting from Native American burial grounds
I carry around the weight of all worlds on my shoulderpads
I'm s′posed to blast Space Invaders up somebody's ass
Serious as A(A) B(B) C(C)
If knowledge be the key then what it roasted on the porch
And wait for ya woman to get off work so she can roast your ass
Either that or 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 bottoms where they broke soft
Whips ′cross a nigga back, way back
And now they wonder why we act how we act
Gold teeth and heavy chevys and talking slower
Afros and loud-ass Italian clothes
People barbecuing in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there hear me, get ya hands up
If anybody out there feel me, get ya hands up