Throw Your Hands Up

Eightball & MJG/OutKast

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Lyrics

Bitch, I ain't got nothing but time So I'mma get out on these cuts and grind Keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine My player ways keep me with plenty dimes See I'mma shine like all six of my gold teeth When a nigga get through cooking up this O-Z All night on the block 'til the sun rise My only friend is a Glock with the 4-5 Four, five in the mornin', it don't stop Daydreamin' 'bout flossin' a drop top (woop) 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 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 yo' folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga 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 barbecuein' 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 nite Dice game in the kitchen, nigga, T. Lee Nigga drunk singin' sounding like the Bee Gees Ham sam'ich 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'mma keep my, phone on I be out turning corners, dranking, 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 hair down, baby, fuck it, stand up! Now I heard that the South is where yo' folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga 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 barbecuein' 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 or a thorn from stem of rose Like nachos, the lyrics are crispy, crackin' when y'all bite Been had a Coke and a smile, now I'm trippin off Yak & Sprite Y'all just might see the skunk guy, with a girl who chunked thighed 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, players comin' major They shot the sucka, sprayed ya, cut ya wife and played her The player the 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 patna, 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 yo' folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga 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 barbecuein' 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, un-believers stay from hell around I found negative niggas they only keep ya down Transmitting from Native American burial ground I carry around, the weight of all worlds on my shoulder pads I'm post to blast, space invaders up somebody's dad Serious as Aa-Bb-Cc If knowledge be the key then buddy roasted on the porch And wait for ya momma to get off work so she can roast yo' 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 yo' folks from Down in the bottoms where they broke some Whips cross a nigga 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 barbecuein' 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