Goodie Mob - Special Education Lyrics
[Verse 1: Big Gipp]They call him Gipp sagaIt’s the mutant, mister get downLive wire, words poke you like barbwireMaroon Range, sugar cane, oil stainsMy right leg longer than my left footPut stripes next to squares, still peel the circleSee spirits off of people, I don’t see colorI’m a special mind, yeah, a special kindConceived in the South at a special timeCovered in leaves of goldScripture written in scrollsSpoken so clearly in tonguesSo my children would comeLook aroundCan’t you seeThe industry: they look like me[Hook: Janelle Monae]I don’t wear the clothes you wearI’m just different and I don’t careIt’s kind of sad and it’s a shameEveryone wants to be the sameIf you are listening here and nowI’m sure I can show you howIt’s okay to be afraidDon’t you want to be special[Verse 2: Khujo]I’m so special, boyTry to went(?) stupid, dawgI eat nuclear waste and spit atomic bombsPlutonium explodes, that’s my trademarkMushroom clouds inside, call ‘em brain fartsGamma rays torch my system, now I’m going greenG-force in my veins, pump hydrozineKT, 13, a microphone beamCosmic juggernaut, extraterrestrial beingReign supreme, once conceived, boy, they broke the moldAll this glory-seeking is getting totally outta controlNo one’s original, Attack of the ClonesInvasion of the swagger-snatchersAim for the dome[Hook][Verse 3: Cee-Lo]Scientists stood around in silence as I was being bornWas I quote, unquote special or was there something wrongMy skin was black, my heart was gold, and my tongue was silverAnd the fact that I could talk already, that was a thrillerAnd I fear what I don’t understand, so let me warn youEspecially when nigga make too much noise about being normalUnusual but beautiful, the bondin’ blessingSumma Cum Laude, School of Exceptional YouthX-MenLet me put something poetic into plain EnglishI’d rather die than to not be distinguishedThe outsiders have no desires to be equalWhen V.I.P. stands for “Very Insecure People”[Hook][Verse 4: T-Mo]S.P.E.C.I.A.L.Heavyweight in the game, T tip the scaleI travel over the world back to ATLI’m friends with the mayor, I’m a truthsayerA crusader, a natural-born raiderI need a deejayer to be the illustratorLet’s get the dollar signsI said my Gucci rhymesI think it’s tea timeDon’t need a co-signT-Mo is on the grind, he about to let it shineOff in the skyline, don’t worry ’bout mineI can handle lies and watching third eyesI make ‘em go blind, I don’t deserve to rhyme[Hook]
