Outkast

Xplosion (Featuring B-Real)

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  funk  soul
1,367 3 часа назад

Текст песни Outkast - Xplosion (Featuring B-Real)

Outkast - Xplosion (Featuring B-Real) слова песни


Hook:

We just can`t be amazed
Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade (repeat 3X)
And we some home-made bombs
Finna blow right up in your face

[B-Real]
Look at the way you look at me I see it on your face
All your hate emanates but you still hesitate
Cause you want inside of my head but don`t know how
To brainwash me to be a commercial clown
Fuck that I see the way you were, see the way you smirk I`m catching you
where you work
God only knows all the trouble that grows
Deep beneath my soul dealing with you assholes
Can I blast those who point the finger at me
Who criticize and talk shit so freely
Fuck XXL you`re a size too small
I should hire Eminem so we can kill you all
Whether you live to talk shit about the Real
Then kiss my ass in person how much you love the Hill
I`m the outcast comin to blaze the grass
Outlaw due to my life that`s come to pass
Dre, pass me the glass of wine
So I can pour it over my homies grave and mine
For all those who fallen and answered when God was calling
Jump into my ragtop and get all in
I`m the bomb, planted in your car why you frozen
Pop the tape in ignite the xplosion
The world is mine, the world is yours, the world is ours
The world is lost, the world is tossed

We just can`t be amazed
Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade (repeat 3X)
And we some home-made bombs
Finna blow right up in your face

[Big Boi]
With a one-two punch, B-Real and Andre dropped they verses
Your homeboy Daddy Fat Sax playin clean-up so it worsens
People and persons on the opposite teams oh, yes its curtains
No bullets burpin` oh just lyrically twerking
Making a statement, when you freestyle and your mind is in a free state
Is kinda hard to execute when you ain`t feeling it that day
Jumpin the gun and rushing your flow
Babbling on the mikie like auctioneer, got the public`s ears
Fucked up can`t hear, Atlanta, Georgia where y`all at?
OutKast this Dirty South to death the Dungeon Family Camp
Got this thang lit like stamps and nine-volt battery end caps
Making that music that make your neck hurt
And the beats that bother your back in my Cadillac
Six woofers and four amps, lo pro vogues on swole
With the carriage lamps diamond tucked velour pistol in my lap
Come in peace but then xplode like booty traps

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