The citys all stuffy but I like fast food
Waiting on buses, going down the tubes
You get used to the noise
The fumes from the cars
I don’t know the last time that
I looked at the stars
Blah blah blah blah
Looking for income, looking for hope
Most times you’re treated like a bit of a joke
There’s nothing so bad that couldn’t be worse
They say one man’s blessing’s
Another man’s curse
Blah blah blah blah
Going to the market
Going to the pub
You go to your boss and you
Ask for a sub
We cycled all over
Seen all the sights
But I like nothing better than
The hot city nights
blah blah blah blah
Trying it make contact but there’s
No-one at home
They’re all out to lunch
They’ve switched off their phones
Searching and searching
What do you get
Total frustration
Surfing the net
blah balh blah blah
Concrete drives you crazy
My mind is getting lazy
Give me your answer daisy
Give me your answer do
Things are getting hazy
You know it isn’t aisy
I’ll be over maisie
Cock a doodle do
Blah blah blah blah blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blahSomething's gotta give!
Yeah, you know what I'm sayin? Uhh
Herring homes, unh, martel homes, carver homes, tekwood
Martin luther king, bankhead
Verse One: Big Boi
Under-cover, over da hills and thru tha woods I go
Like green lights, a southern nigga that's comin fo' yo' throat
But not no guillotine see, we be them southern playas
Remember the football socks, aerobic Reeboks and Decaturs, now
You up to par and ready fo yo lesson
I got an ounce of dank and a couple of drinks so let's crank up a session
Like Tri-City high school, was pullin em in a broke down Rabbit
I spit a couple of words and layin em down was just a habit
Just like smokey, choking off da pee-wee that we rolled up
Talkin about the click will get you laid down hella swoled up
Hootie hoo slapped ya boyz across the cheek wit Isotoners
And went to tell yo momma and yo pop that you was a goner
Tell em Big Boi did it; I swear that nigga be rhymin
Every lyric that he spit be turnin charcoals into Diamonds and Pearls
Girl when you givin up them draws, cause
I got a couple of niggaz down the hall
That wanna hit it too, I'm not the type to be actin selfish
Set it out and let it out and I'll be right back just like Elvis
Cause the postman rings twice...
Hey Mr. Postman....
Chorus: repeat 2X
power, power, I come gimme some
tha deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
put tha SWATS SWATS on yo' car
let's travel far, tha southern star shines
Verse Two: Dre
Everybody wanna get signed, but (here to tell you)
record companies act like pimps
Gettin paid off what we made when we the ones that's fly like blimps
But ain't no Goodyear, I tell it like it is so I'm like look here
Just willin to get what I deserve my kids to have a mother
and a little house, with a dog in the backyard goin "woof-woof"
Who knows what I'ma say soon's I leave this recording booth
Poof, back in the