Outkast - Benz Or Beemer Lyrics
* also available on some copies of the goodie mob single cell therapy{it all started at an accident scene on bankhead and ash street.Its not clear if the suspect caused it; it is clear he wieldedA hammer and told ..... to get out of his car.}Verse one: big boi, andreYeah, yeah check itFrom alligator belts to patty melts I be that smoothest niggaSo hwo do you figga that atlant dont be pullin dem triggasThe southernplayalistic pimp is up in this *****Man, my folkers up on that track, complimentin that wickednessSee one is for the money two is for my niggaz who jackNiggaz aint takin that shit no mo they got big benz and cadillacMy gat is in my lap, so whatchu wanna be startin now?Im pissin up on jeffreys dahmer grave that cracker was foulToo close for comfort, too close to homeToo close to be playin yo ass so hey why dont you get yo ownAs long, as I got this legallyPeople see that we can be on top of things without causinAnother nigga sorrow, I know it seems it aint enough to go aroundBut keep on holdin on like goodie mob cause its a better day tomorrowThats all I can say, cant tell the futureTomorrows another day but today, they just might shoot youFor your ride, ***** your pride, hah better be out your seatQuick and snappy with a happy face before you bleedAsk me, if that material shit is worth yo lifeI dont know about yours but if so you smokin pipes rightVerse two: andre, big boiDeep in the dungeon for these many monthsAmongst the dungeon dragon as we pass around dem bluntsHad to cut it out like cheers, but for years I used to burn emGettin deep in my thoughts just to get shit off my sternumChest/chess, I never played but made many a movesI still blame it on session cause I cant remember the dueI guess, I feel that gettin a benz is out of the questionThe world is yellin hootie hoo but in my pockets nuthin butGum and lint, to sum the shit, of Im brokeNothin but hope, so big boi, tell em what you tokeIm travellin up to jersey with four keys off in my trunkAnd thinkin of startin the ways to get that mother*****er krunkSee yes I be that nigga that with that sess off in my chestSmokin and tokin them token blacks, that wanted to testSee strong niggaz survive and the weak niggaz they dieI never ***** no white *****, I stop eatin that pig styBe activatin that lo-jack cause the fleetwood has been stolenCampalton road is open, the b-i-g has spokenCause its like thisVerse three: big boi, andreI got these thoughts, similar to the ones that call in the wildUp in the benz is where I be doin about a hundred milesThe world is *****ed up how these niggaz be drivin drunkVehicular homicide with their bodies off in your trunkTo me the cards is not belong I use that strong arm robberyRobbin spree, look at me, w-m-bBackwards, takin you to the cha cha with these versesComin around the projects make you sleep off in dem hearsesI got a word of wisdom, for those who must be zestYoull be needin a physical therapist, cause you cant ***** with thisWhile you sat down by the seashore thinkin about some seashellsI was around the corner from clemson hills thinkin about the v-12But maybe not for long because I just done seen the lightIm packin my screwdriver so see Im gon be alrightJust moving the steering wheel side to side like a slalomNow I aint got no problem Im just breakin the steerin columnI spot him, in the middle of the marta parkin lotIm hearin a voice in the back of my head yellin andre stop!But do I stop, naw I figure its a come upBut now Im goin down cause the folks wanna run upDamn!!!{these days, the best way to deal with a car jackerIs to simply give them what they want.}
